


Flatmates

by MrsMCrieff



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: 221B Baker Street, Drunk Sex, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Fun, Sexual Content, Touch of Cabin Pressure, toby the cat - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-01
Updated: 2016-08-04
Packaged: 2018-07-28 17:22:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 27,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7649752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsMCrieff/pseuds/MrsMCrieff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happens when Molly moves in to Baker Street as Sherlock's new flat mate? A fluffy and eventually smutty little Sherlolly fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It was simple in Sherlock's mind; the solving of two problems with one solution, killing two birds with one stone, 2 + 2 = 4. He couldn't quite understand why Molly was taking so long to think about it.

It had all started early April when he had found Molly close to tears in the lab, reading and re-reading a letter. He pursed his lips and pondered whether to backtrack out of the door, before she noticed he were there, but then he closed his eyes and shook his head. She was his friend, she had rarely asked for much from him and he knew the right thing to do would be to ask her what the problem was. So, after a moments procrastination, that was what he did.

She looked up in surprise. 'Oh hi Sherlock, I didn't hear you come in. Don't worry it's nothing.'

He came closer hoping he wouldn't have to hug her or anything else so personal. 'It's obviously not nothing or you wouldn't be so upset.'

She sighed and held out the letter to him. 'It's from my landlord. He's putting the rent up. Twenty percent....twenty percent! It was already expensive but now...I don't know Sherlock I think I'm going to have to find somewhere cheaper to live. I just don't want to spend that much of my income on rent...I can't.'

He glanced over the letter his mind already in overdrive thinking through the possibilities and implications. It didn't take him long. 

'The solution is simple, move in with me.'

Molly looked at him; shock written all over her face. 'What?'

'I'm sure you heard me the first time Molly. Why does everyone always ask me to repeat myself? I said move in with me. John's old room is just lying empty and I was starting to think about looking for a new flat mate. You'd be perfect.'

'I'm sorry but in what universe would the two of us sharing a flat be perfect?' Asked Molly in barely disguised horror.

Sherlock turned and made his way to his favourite microscope, 'well, we already know each other for starters. I don't want the hassle of having to get to know someone new...it's always so tedious not to mention most people...well, everyone except John, moves back out within a matter of days. Plus you won't complain about me having body parts in the fridge given the fact that you're normally the person who gave them to me.' He caught a glimpse of her raising her eyebrows in disbelief. 'Alright I get ALL of the body parts from you. Anyway, splitting the bills will help both of us but more than that I find....well, that I've missed the company since John left. We get on so why not?'

'I...I don't know Sherlock. I need to think about it.'

'Fine, well there's no rush as far as I'm concerned. The room is yours if you want it. Same rent as John paid.'

He gave her a figure and Molly's eyes widened. It was less than half of what she was paying at the moment...plus she'd be closer to work so would save on both time and money with her commute. But she'd be sharing with Sherlock. The very man she'd been crushing on for over five years. That wouldn't be healthy, surely.

She ended up going round to discuss it with Mary a couple of nights later when Sherlock and John were away on a case. They spent the first half of the evening talking about baby Elizabeth who was now almost three months old and it was only when she had finally fallen to sleep in her cot and they sat with a glass of wine each that Molly told Mary about his proposition.

'What are you waiting for take it,' said Mary as she took a gulp of wine; the one bonus to her having been unable to get on with breast feeding.

'But it's Sherlock. I mean the rent and location are great. I love the flat and having Mrs Hudson downstairs will be a bonus. But let's not kid ourselves Mary. I'm in love with the guy and he feels nothing for me. How healthy is it going to be living with him?'

'Well, maybe seeing him unshaven and scratching his arse in the morning will be just the tonic you need to get over your feelings for him. They say familiarity breeds contempt so maybe living with him will help you see him differently.'

Molly chewed on her thumb nail as she contemplated what Mary had said. 'Maybe...' She didn't sound convinced though.

'Anyway I think it would be good for him having someone else there. You know everything that happened at New Year with the exile and the drugs. John worries about him sitting in that flat all alone with no company. I know he'd be a lot happier if he knew that you were there keeping an eye on him.'

Molly bit her lip and Mary sensed her victory. 'Go on what have you got to lose. He's not tying you into any contract so if it doesn't work out you can just look around for somewhere else.'

'Well it would be so much better on my bank balance. It can't be that bad...can it?'

'I'm sure it's fine. Come on John lived with him for years and survived,' Mary felt a little guilty as she said this remembering some of John's tales about living with Sherlock but she was convinced that this could only be a good thing for them both. She had every expectation that given close proximity Sherlock would finally realise that Molly was perfect for him and would stop being such a stubborn wanker.

Molly gave it another few days but couldn't come up with any good reason not to take him up on his offer and as her deadline with her landlord loomed she sent Sherlock a text accepting his offer.

His answer came through fast.

Glad you saw the sense in it. Let me know when you want to move in and I'll make sure I'm out of your way. SH 

She frowned, well this was getting off to a great start. No offer of help with the removal work then. 

She at least fixed up to go round a couple of nights later and view her room. She'd never actually seen it during her previous, albeit limited, visits. 

It felt a bit strange arriving and knowing this would soon be her new home. Mrs Hudson let her in and kissed her on both cheeks before hugging her. 'Well I have to say it will be nice having another female in the house. You're welcome to pop down anytime you like for a cuppa, though evenings tend to be when I have gentlemen callers so you might want to knock. John was so upset when he walked in and caught me and Mr Nugent.....well, these things happen don't they. Anyway Sherlock's upstairs but give me a shout if you need anything.'

As Molly went up the stairs she could hear him playing his violin. She was going to enjoy hearing him play more often. He was very talented but rarely played in public. In fact she'd only heard him twice before, once at that Christmas party and the other at John and Mary's wedding.

He broke off as she entered the flat. 'Ah you're here. Feel free to take a look around. There's a set of keys for you on the table, you can move in whenever you like. Any questions?'

Molly had a few about the bills and how they would be split but Sherlock gave all the right answers. Then he offered to make her a cup of tea whilst she explored the room upstairs.

'It has its own loo and sink but you'll need to come downstairs for showers and baths. I'm not normally an early riser though so we should co-ordinate quite well in that respect.'

Molly wandered up the final set of stairs and opened the door to a surprisingly spacious room. There was a window at each end; front and back plus a door into the small en suite. She walked around thinking about her furniture and what she wanted to bring with her. There would be enough room for her bedroom furniture plus she could put her settee under the window at the front. It would give her her own space to sit and read if she needed it and she strongly suspected she would at times.

She heard Sherlock start to play again downstairs as she measured up and she smiled to herself suddenly feeling eager to move in sooner rather than later.

When she went back downstairs the cuppa was sitting waiting for her on the kitchen table and after picking it up she sat for a moment in John's old chair just letting the music wash over her. He was so intense when he played as though his mind were a thousand miles away. It allowed her to look at him far more than she was ever able too normally. The dying sunlight cast a golden glow around his head making him look like an angel or an apostle from a medieval painting.

He carried on playing for five more minutes before letting the tune come to a natural end then he put the instrument down and came to sit opposite her picking up his own cup.

'Are you going to be OK with Toby coming here?'

He frowned. 'Who's Toby?'

She rolled her eyes. 'My cat.'

He shrugged. 'It will be fine. Mrs Hudson loves cats and I have no objections so long as he doesn't come into my bedroom.'

Molly nodded wondering how easy that would be. Laying down a rule to a cat was just a challenge to be broken but she didn't want to say anything to put him off. 

'Are you sure you're going to be happy sharing with me?' 

He smiled. 'Why wouldn't I be Molly?'

'Well, have you ever shared with a woman before?'

'Is that a roundabout way of asking if I've lived with a girlfriend Molly or a genuine question?'

She blushed but said nothing so he continued. 'No, I've never shared with a woman but I'm sure you can't be that much different from John. But yes I'm positive. I'm actually looking forward to it. It's been lonely these last few months and that is something I never thought I would hear myself say.'

Two weeks later and Molly had hired a man with a van, Icarus Removals. She'd spent the last fortnight clearing out her flat and sorting out everything she wanted to get rid of and the rest had been packed up and was ready to go. The two guys, Martin and Arthur, were enthusiastic rather than talented but they were cheap to hire and happy to help Molly with all the things she needed doing. She was embarrassed to realise she even found Martin quite cute in a dorky sort of way and on the basis that he looked far too shy to ever ask her out she gave him her mobile number and asked him to call her sometime...if he wanted to. His answering blush and smile told her that he did and she hoped he wouldn't leave it too long.

She'd agreed with Mrs Hudson that John's old furniture could be moved to the basement flat and she was pleased to see that Sherlock had cleared some space in the front room for her books and laptop etc. It was a long day and Sherlock was noticeably absent throughout but by eight o'clock that evening a weary Molly flopped onto the settee with a plate of cake and sandwiches that Mrs Hudson had brought up for her and she looked around contentedly.

She still had work to do upstairs. The furniture was all in place but her clothes were still in cases and needed unpacking but she'd worry about that tomorrow. For now she just needed food, drink and rest.

She finished the food and was just starting to doze off when there was a bang downstairs and she heard Sherlock make his way up the stairs.

She smiled to herself, here goes. Let the flat share commence!


	2. Chapter 2

She noticed Sherlock hesitate momentarily in the doorway as he realised she was here but he quickly dissembled and made his way in, removing his coat and scarf as he went. 

'Move go OK?' 

'Yes, thanks. It was fine. I hope you don't mind me setting up my laptop opposite yours...only there was space. I know John used to sit there though....'

'No, no that's fine. Have you had food?'

'Yes, Mrs Hudson brought some up. Yours is on the side under a tea towel to keep it fresh.' 

Molly was cringing inwardly about how overly polite they were both being. She supposed it would take a bit of time to get used to sharing a space together. 

Sherlock moved off into the kitchen and then into his bedroom, quietly turfing Toby out, and she sat up wondering if she should go up to her room and leave him to it. Trouble was she didn't want to look like she was hiding from him, which was exactly what she would be doing.

In the end she stood and realising how dark it was getting she shut the curtains. It seemed odd doing such a mundane, domestic task in what still felt like someone else's home. 'It's my home too,' she said to herself quietly.

'It certainly is, why was it in dispute?' 

She spun around to find Sherlock walking toward her biting on one of sandwiches from the plate he was carrying. It was not that which caught her attention though. It was the fact he was wearing his pyjamas and a dressing gown. 

For a moment her brain seemed to close down on itself. She knew she was staring somewhere around the middle of his chest but she couldn't seem to command her head to rise up. Bar his foray under cover last year she'd never seen him so....dressed down. It was a simple set of striped, flannel pyjama bottoms and a grey t shirt topped off with a thin blue dressing gown but it had made her stomach flip over and her mind shut down.

'Molly...' His voice had a warning edge and brought her back to herself. She knew she must be blushing as she looked back up at his face.

'Sorry, sorry. I'm just tired. It's been a long day, too long. So where were you whilst all the work was being done?'

He sat down on his chair and she wandered over to sit opposite him, tucking her feet underneath herself before feeling suddenly guilty and starting to straighten back up.

He waved a sandwich filled hand at her. 'You're fine Molly, it's your chair now so sit how you like. You can lie across it or perch on the back for all I care.'

He took another bite and then continued. 'I was over at Barts checking on the culture samples from the liver you gave me last week....'

And just like that the awkwardness seemed to melt away. They spent the next hour discussing his findings and whether he could replicate them with a more decayed liver, Molly offered to check for one the next day and before she knew it it was past ten thirty and with a yawn she realised it was time to retire for the night.

She stretched, closing her eyes and missing how Sherlock's eyes became drawn to her chest. She had removed her bra before she'd settled down to her tea, hating the way it felt after twelve hours of wear. Her t shirt was white and as she stretched her nipples could just about be seen through the thin material.

She stood up. 'I'm going to make a cuppa to take up do you want one?'

'Hmm, oh...yes please.' 

She glanced back at him as she waited for the kettle to boil. His eyes were closed and his elbows were on the arm rests with his hands steepled beneath his chin. She wondered if he had gone into his fabled mind palace and if so, whether she should disturb him and say good night.

In the end she put the cup on the table by his side and left without saying anything.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH 

For the first time Sherlock was really contemplating the potential consequences of what he had done by inviting Molly to move in with him. He had long been aware of her feelings for him, if anything he enjoyed it. It was always nice to feel attractive and wanted especially for someone with his needy personality type. 

He had seen the way she had looked at him as he'd walked into the front room in his pyjamas and he hadn't been able to resist letting her know that he'd noticed her reaction. Plus she'd seemed almost out of it for a moment. Maybe she really had been tired, after all he wasn't that attractive.

The thing that surprised him however was his reaction to seeing her breasts, albeit in a slightly oblique way. In fact the more he thought about it the more he realised it was the opaqueness of the t shirt that bothered him more than the transparency. It made him want to see more whereas he suspected if he had seen more he may have preferred to see less. 

He thought about deleting the image and found he couldn't quite bring himself to do it, so instead he tucked it away in the new room he had created for Molly in honour of her moving in. It had seemed only right that he give her her own space now away from Barts.

When he opened his eyes Toby was curled up asleep on his lap, Molly had gone, no doubt to bed, and his cup of tea was cold. He huffed, waking up Toby who leisurely stretched before jumping down in search of food. Finally he stood up and took his cup of tea over to the kitchen to throw it away, it was never quite as nice if it were microwaved. He decided he might as well go to bed himself.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

The next morning he awoke hearing some kind of pop music emanating quietly from the kitchen. He rolled over onto his back with a groan before blearily turning to glance at his clock to see what time it was as he realised it must be Molly making the noise as she was getting ready for work.

Molly was sat on one of the kitchen chairs, with her feet up on a second one, drinking a coffee whilst putting on her make up; the radio keeping her company in the background.

It had made a pleasant change getting up a full half an hour later. There were some definite advantage to living on Baker St.

She glanced up as Sherlock's bedroom door opened and a disheveled Sherlock, complete with stubble dear God, made his way out and into the bathroom with barely a glance in her direction let alone a hello or good morning. She smiled to herself and taking pity on him she stood and refilled the kettle before switching it back on. She knew he'd need a coffee once he re-emerged.

Five minutes later and looking marginally more awake he came back out and into the kitchen to find a clean mug for his morning drink.

'Morning Sherlock, did you sleep well?' She asked as she added a touch of lipstick to her look.

'Not as well as you it seems.'

'No, I slept like a log. It was a lot quieter than I thought it would be, I could barely hear the traffic noise at all through the night.'

Sherlock just grunted in response as he sat down on the chair that Molly had just withdrawn her feet from. She stood checking the contents of her bag before pulling on her jacket.

'Will you be in later?'

'Doubtful, John will be round shortly and we're likely to pick something up, case-wise, from the emails.'

'Alright well maybe I'll see you when I get back then,' and with that she bent and kissed him on the lips.

It was just a peck and it was only as she was righting herself that she suddenly realised what she had done. He was watching her quizzically as her face morphed into one of shocked horror.'Oh my God, I am so sorry. I don't know what came over me. I've never lived with a man I wasn't dating before....maybe it was just tiredness, I just slipped into old behaviour.'

Then she did the worst thing possible. She compounded her error by placing her hand on his lightly stubbled jaw and slid her thumb across his lips to remove the trace of her lipstick.

She swore she saw him roll his eyes, and it was not in a good way, as he lightly caught hold of her wrist and gently removed her hand from his face, 'yes, well let's just put it down to one of those things and forget about it.' He stood and started to make his way back to his bedroom before turning at the last minute.'Maybe you could find me that set of eyes that I asked for a couple of days back. I still have some ideas about how we can test for....'

'Yes, yes of course I'll bring them home with me. OK well I'll see you later.'

She walked away still berating herself for being so stupid. She couldn't believe she had kissed him....kissed him! She wasn't sure what had come over her but it had been just like all those mornings with Tom where she'd be leaving for work before him and she'd bend and kiss him goodbye.

Of course she'd noticed how quick he had capitalised on her error. He'd been after those eyes for ages now but seriously if it meant they never had to speak of the kiss again it was fine by her. She hurried down Baker St towards the tube station still dwelling on her actions.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH 

Sherlock rolled his eyes at the sight of the cat curled up asleep in the centre of his bed but didn't move him. Instead he half lay half sat and drank the rest of his coffee as he organised his thoughts and findings from the tests he'd been working on the day before. They hadn't been very exciting or interesting and normally he wouldn't have bothered leaving the flat for them but he hadn't wanted to be around whilst Molly had moved in. It would just have entailed him getting drawn in to moving boxes, tidying up or some other puerile task. Why did everyone assume that someone lying on a settee must be in need of some sort of task being thrust upon them?

He smirked to himself a little when he remembered her absent-mindedly kissing him that morning. Yes it had been a shock but surprisingly not unpleasant. He wondered for a moment what it would be like if Molly kissed him goodbye like that every morning. He decided he'd keep it. It was a good memory of Molly and it had finally tipped the odds in his favour of getting those eyes so there had been a benefit in it. 

He brought his hand up to his jaw placing it where Molly had placed hers, letting his thumb move across his lips as she had. Even just remembering he shivered a little from the feel. He did need to be careful; he had no room for sentiment or emotion in his life. He needed to concentrate on the work. He rose from his bed to go and have a shower before John arrived, it would be good to find something else to exercise his brain.


	3. Chapter 3

It was almost a week before Molly received a text from Martin the removal guy.

Sorry, out of the country for a few days. Are you free Sunday? Thought we could meet at the Royal Air Force Museum in Edgware they have over a hundred planes to view! Let me know, Martin

Molly frowned, it didn't sound the most exciting of dates but then beggars can't be choosers. It's not as though she had had a lot of offers recently or much planned for Sunday. She wondered why he had been out of the country but remembered again how sweet and kind he had seemed; not to mention painfully shy. 

She replied in the affirmative and suggested a time just after lunch. If they got on well she could always suggest dinner. That was when she suddenly thought about how awkward it might be inviting a man back to Baker St.; she hadn't really considered that before. Would Sherlock just go out if she asked or stay in his room? She made a mental note to ask John what he used to do, that was if she got a chance to ask him without Sherlock around.

Other than that they'd been living together for just over a week now and so far so good. It had helped that he'd been away on a case for two nights and having the place to herself had somehow made it feel more like home and less like she was squatting in his apartment. By the time he returned she was wrapped up in a dressing gown in his chair reading a book....well it was comfier than the other one and the lighting was better for reading. At least that was her cover story, truth was she liked sitting where he normally sat just because it was him. It seemed living with him wasn't breeding contempt so far.

It didn't help that she now regularly saw him come out of the bathroom with nothing on but a white towel wrapped around his slim hips and using another to towel dry his hair. Molly had been in the kitchen the first time, cooking, and had turned towards him totally not expecting to see what she saw. It was lucky that the bowl was plastic because had it been glass it would have shattered everywhere.

'Sorry to....surprise you Molly,' the way his eyes narrowed told her he knew exactly what had caused her to drop the bowl but he carried on. 'I was covered in pigs blood and figured you wouldn't appreciate me joining you for dinner looking like a serial killer.'

'Well, you deduced right on that one. So do I want to know how you ended up covered in pigs blood. I thought you said it was a simple case and the accountant had done it.'

He leant against the kitchen cabinets and Molly tried to keep her eyes on his face and not his chest or lower but it was really hard. 'It WAS the accountant but we tracked him down at an abattoir where he managed the accounts and when he saw us he stupidly ran. I caught him first but as I tackled him he turned and threw a bucket of blood and offal over me. It was a good job I wasn't wearing my Belstaff it would have been ruined. Anyway, John and Lestrade had caught up by then so they took over. I had to be brought back in a police car, no cab would take me.' He grimaced over the word police car and Molly snickered a little at his obvious disgruntlement at such an undignified form of transport.

She turned back to her baking, life with Sherlock seemed to be endless take aways and Molly was determined to bring some homemade food into both their diets. He turned and looked over her shoulder, 'so, what's for dinner?'

Molly could almost feel the gap between their bodies, as though there were a layer of electricity between them. He was in no way touching her but he felt so, so close. She swore she had stopped breathing.

'Umm...I...err...pie. We're having pie.'

He moved away. 'Well I could see that much Molly. I was hoping for a little more detail.'

'Sorry, steak and kidney pie with carrots and broccoli. It'll be ready in about forty minutes.'

'In that case I shall see you then, when I am more appropriately dressed.'

Molly couldn't help but sneak a peek at his back as he turned and left the kitchen making for his bedroom. He had such broad shoulders and such a narrow waist and she would have given a lot in that moment to have been able to place her hands on his skin.....yup, definitely no contempt yet.

They hadn't spent a lot of time together yet but when it had been just the two of them they had fallen into their normal, easy friendship. Sherlock asked her about the bodies coming through her morgue, she asked him about his cases and they had even spent one evening playing Cluedo although by the end Molly wished she had listened to John had vowed never to do that again.

Living with him was less fraught than she had expected it to be. Even Toby had settled in well though his favourite place was curled up on Sherlock's bed. Sherlock had ousted him from the room the first couple of times but seemed to have given up and as he wasn't complaining to Molly she hadn't done anything to try and stop him.

When he eventually emerged from the bedroom he was in his normal evening pyjamas. Molly had almost got used to seeing him like this and struggled now to decide if she preferred him relaxed like this or buttoned up in his tight shirts and suits. Both looks were completely different but equally hot in their own way. 'Come on Hooper, get a grip.' She whispered to herself under her breath.

'Get a grip of what?' Asked Sherlock from across the room. Molly jolted in shock, wondering for a moment whether he actually had bat hearing? 

'Ummm...just the cooking, I'm not very good and I don't want to burn anything.'

He meandered into the kitchen. 'Do you need help at all?'

'No, it's fine. Maybe you can pour us both some wine or just me if you don't want anything. Do you drink much at home?'

'Not regularly, not as much as John did anyway. It's not good for the brain but if I haven't got a case then I don't mind a glass or two.'

She could hear him pouring it out as she started to dish up the food.

'Did you want to use the kitchen table? I could maybe move my experiments out of the way?'

'No don't worry. I think it would need scouring for a few hours or even days before we could eat food off of it. Coffee in the morning is about its limit in its current state. We can eat on the settee maybe? I kind of got used to eating off my knee when I was living alone.'

She turned around with a plate in each hand and Sherlock picked up the glasses of wine and led her through to the front room.

The next ten minutes were carried out in silence as they both ate their food but as the meal came to a close Sherlock thanked her for cooking and even complimented her on the pie.

'Thanks, it's my nan's recipe. There're not many things I'm good at cooking but that's one of them. It's my go to date meal.' As she said the latter she cringed hoping Sherlock wouldn't pick up on it.

'Oh, so this is a date is it?' He smirked and she knew he was trying to make a joke with her.

'No, no I mean...well I wanted to cook something and figured it wouldn't do any harm to practice.'

He put down his empty plate and picked up his wine before leaning back. 'So you're practicing your go to date meal. Anything I should be aware of Molly...new man on the scene. You know I've told you to give up on that, your choices so far haven't been very....'

Molly felt herself bridle. 'Very what Sherlock?'

'Very sound. I don't know why you still bother.'

She frowned. 'Because I don't want to be alone for the rest of my life Sherlock. Because I don't want to die a crazy old cat lady. That's why and because...'

She was on the verge of saying the man I really love doesn't want me but she managed to bite back the words at the last minute. Saying that to Sherlock would just embarrass them both and there was no point, no point at all.

'Because?' 

She looked up from her wine realising that he'd leant towards her, a curious look on his face.

She shook her head slowly. 'It doesn't matter. Don't you ever need somebody Sherlock?'

'Yes,' he looked her directly in the eye and she found herself spell bound, 'you Molly. I needed you.'

For a split second she thought he was saying more than he really was; that he was saying he wanted her. But then he reclined back into the seat again and continued, 'that's why I invited you to move in so I would have your companionship.'

She tried not to look too deflated; after all he had never led her on, he'd only ever been 100% clear regarding his feelings for her. Yes he manipulated her every so often but not with promises of a relationship. 

She sighed. 'How do you turn it off though Sherlock? How do you not need love?'

He shrugged. 'I don't know that I do. I mean if I didn't need anything I wouldn't be friends with John, I wouldn't put up with Mrs Hudson I wouldn't be enjoying your company tonight. We all need love Molly you just maybe find it easier to give than I do. I...I do wish I could show it better sometimes.'

They were silent for a moment or two but it didn't feel awkward.

'So who is he?'

Molly blushed. 'The removal guy. We haven't been out yet but he asked me to meet him on Sunday. I...er..I'm not saying I'll invite him here or anything but just for the future what did you used to do when John had a date. Did you go out or...?'

He smirked. 'Honestly, he rarely brought women back. I don't think he trusted me not to insult them...which was probably fairly wise of him. I don't want you to feel that you can't come back here though. Maybe just send me a text and I'll make myself scarce. And on that note I think I'll make myself scarce right now. Thanks for the meal Molly, leave the pots John will wash them up in the morning he won't want you to feel you have to do everything around here like he had to.' He smiled and swigged down the rest of his wine as he walked back towards his room.

Molly sat in the gathering dark for a while, having poured herself another glassful. She couldn't help but feel sad at the matter of fact way that Sherlock had discussed her bringing men over. 

He really doesn't care at all....I mean, I always knew it but hearing him talk like that...just confirms it. I'm wasting my time loving him I just wish I knew how to turn it off!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Am I being cruel making it seem like there is no hope? We all know there is though ;).


	4. Chapter 4

Molly wasn't quite right though in her evaluation of Sherlock's mood. He felt unreasonable irritable and he didn't quite understand why. He lay on his bed and thought back over their conversation and pinned it down to the point where it had become clear that Molly had a date. He'd felt uncomfortable; she never chose well and it always ended badly for her. He tried to tell himself he didn't like to see her get hurt or upset but a nagging voice at the back of his head told him it was more than that....that he didn't like seeing her with anyone else.

He opened his eyes in the dark watching the shadows on the ceiling. Maybe he was just selfish, wanting Molly to be available at his every beck and call. It had been hard enough to give up John to Mary without losing Molly as well. He huffed angrily...love; it always got in the way. 

When he closed his eyes to try to get to sleep the image that came to mind was Molly curled up in his chair the other night wearing her cream, fleece dressing gown. It wasn't a particularly sexy or attractive look for her but he'd liked it. She seemed to look so......he struggled to find the word to describe how it had made him feel. It was as though he were finally coming home after years away even though it was only two days. She just made everything feel....right.

God he needed a case.

It was lucky therefore that one was brought to his attention the next day. Lestrade called him soon after Molly had left for work. There was a body of a woman found washed up at the side of the Thames.

Sherlock texted John as he got ready and he collected him in a cab before heading down to view the body.

As they arrived Greg came up to meet the car. 'Bit of an X Files case for you today Mulder.' He quipped as Sherlock paid the cabbie.

John laughed but Sherlock just looked bemused. 'What on earth are you talking about Graham?'

Greg rolled his eyes. 'Nothing, never mind. The body's down here. Initial cause of death appears to be exsanguination and to top it off she has bite marks on her neck.

John's head reared back a little. 'So we're looking for a vampire?'

Sherlock shook his head in despair. 'Hardly John. I think we can at least agree that there are no such things as vampires.'

'Well, see for yourselves.' Lestrade gestured towards the body.

The woman was naked and lying face down in the dirt. She'd obviously been in the water for some time. John watched as Sherlock circled the body before removing his magnifying lens and focusing in on her neck, where there were indeed two puncture wounds which looked just like a film version of a vampire bite. He also gently lifted her arms checking the veins for any other needle marks as well as her finger nails.

He stood, swiftly pocketing the lens. 'You'll be sending the body to Barts no doubt?'

Greg nodded.

'Fine, I'll let Molly know. Do we have any identity yet?'

'No, not yet. We're going through missing persons over the last 48 hours and I'll let you know if we pin it down at all.'

Sherlock looked around silently at the fast flowing water. Eventually he turned back. 'This won't be the last and something tells me it wasn't the first time. We need to check to see if there have been any other similar cases. We'll come back to Scotland Yard with you before going to Barts.'

Greg looked worried. 'So...what? You think we're looking at a serial killer?'

Sherlock smiled gleefully. 'Oh yes, I love those. Come on John there's work to be done.' 

He left Lestrade wiping a hand wearily over his face. 'God I hate serial killers.'

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH 

Molly did indeed receive a text from Sherlock telling her the body was coming in, along with a list of things he specifically wanted her to look out for.

She was sad for the victim but was glad that he'd found something to occupy him. He didn't seem to cope well without at least some kind of case and it had been a while since he had really got his teeth into something.

She giggled a little at her own joke and then set about preparing the autopsy table and her equipment so she was ready when the body came in.

It was still a bit of a shock though to see the bite marks on the body but, like Sherlock, Molly was very clear that vampires belonged in books and films, there was no such thing in real life. She spent quite some time photographing and examining the marks as well as the rest of the body and when Sherlock came in she was ready with the preliminary findings.

He arrived just as she was putting the body away but she paused long enough for him to take another look over her.

'So, what did you find Molly?'

He seemed closer to her than normal. It seemed that the two of them living together meant that their personal spaces seemed to have reduced. He was now happy to lean on the table centimetres from where she stood, she could have put her hand out and placed it on his chest. She found herself almost fisting her hands to make sure that she didn't. 

'You asked me to look out for any other puncture wounds but there was definitely nothing else. The blood must have been taken through one of those two puncture sites. They do look like they could be teeth marks, the size and shape would fit someone with extraordinarily long incisors but I'm sure you're with me in ruling out real life vampires.'

He gave a curt nod and indicated for her to go on. 

'They could have been made a number of different ways and then I suspect the murderer used one of them to hide the syringe mark and siphon the blood.'

'I suspect she'd been in the water between 24 and 36 hours...no more than that and she was dead when she was put in it. There was no water in the lungs. Death was caused by the loss of blood and there were no other significant injuries though I did find ligature marks on her wrists and ankles and evidence of gagging.'

'I've taken what little blood is left and asked for an urgent tox report, though they're quite busy at the moment. Gemma's off ill and Sanjay is on holiday.' She hurried on as Sherlock rolled his eyes in disinterest. 'Right...yes well I've taken samples from her nails as requested and they're in the lab waiting for you. I can come up and help in a few minutes if you need it.'

'Thanks, yes that would be useful. John had to go as Lizzie was being sick and Mary wanted him to check her over. If you're making coffee I'll have one too.'

As he walked away Molly smiled, at least he'd stopped telling her how he liked his coffee. Five years was long enough to know how he drank it but up until she'd moved in with him he had told her every, single time.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH 

They spent a good couple of hours working on the tests that Sherlock wanted to carry out and he had been able to pinpoint the compound under her nails. Most of it was chalk but some was soil and he'd narrowed it down to two areas in London, Greenwich and Islington. He texted the information to Lestrade and then started to chase Molly for the blood tests. She rang through to the labs but they were back logged and hadn't got round to it yet leaving Sherlock very disgruntled. 

He picked up Molly's autopsy report and started reading through it as she carried on with her paperwork.

Once or twice she found herself glancing over at him. He was looking particularly hot today in his black suit with a fitted white shirt. She wondered, not for the first time, if she would ever get over this man....if she even ever wanted to.

He looked up, catching her staring but his mind seemed to be elsewhere. 'Molly, you mention puncture wounds in the fingertips, you didn't mention them to me downstairs.'

'Yes well you asked me to look for syringe marks, that kind of thing. These were very shallow, no blood could have been taken from them. I only noticed them after I cleaned her hands.'

'And they were on all her fingers, just one...what?'

'Mainly her index fingers and thumbs and mostly her left hand.'

He started texting again.

'Does that mean something?' Molly asked as she came over to stand by him, feeling curious.

'She's in fashion for a living, the prick marks combined with the chalk deposits indicate dressmaking. It's not a popular hobby nowadays so I suspect she works in the industry somehow.'

Just then the door opened and Greg came in holding his phone and no doubt reading Sherlock's text. He looked up and grinned. 'You're not wrong Sherlock, you're never wrong. Her name was Cindy Green and she made handmade ballet shoes for the Royal Ballet here in London. She lived in a flat just outside of Islington. I don't know how you do it but I'm sure you'll enjoy telling me.'

'Perfect, we need to interview, friends, family, work colleagues.'

'Already on it Sherlock. My team is arranging access to her flat and we can take it from there. Looks like it's going to be a long day.'

Molly could have laughed at the excited look on Sherlock's face as he hurriedly gathered up his belongings before putting on his Belstaff and tying his scarf around his neck.

'Are you coming Molly?'

She frowned. 'Don't be daft I've still got work to do here. I can't go gallivanting off at the drop of a hat. Go on, enjoy yourself and I'll see you back at home.'

He scowled, 'fine but don't worry about food, I won't need anything today.' With that he hesitated but then smiled and bent his head and kissed her briefly on the lips. He pulled away smirking at her shocked look and hearing a 'bloody hell' from Lestrade in the back ground. Gently he put his hand on her jaw and swiped his thumb across her lips as he gave her a wink, 'don't wait up.'

He turned towards the Detective Inspector who was stood gawping at the two of them, the case momentarily forgotten. 'What the bloody hell was that?'

'Private joke, nothing for you to concern yourself with. Now come on this murder isn't going to solve itself.' And with that he pushed through the doors and left with Greg trailing in a stunned fashion behind him. 

Molly sat down on one of the lab stools and put her fingers to her lips, if that was Sherlock's idea of a joke Molly was happy for him to make it every day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maybe a bit OOC for Sherlock? If so sorry but I couldn't resist him turning the tables on Molly and totally not realising how much more of a big deal it would be for her. Next time is date time! However will it go?


	5. Chapter 5

Molly didn't see Sherlock again that day and she went to bed wondering what exactly he was getting up to. It was funny, she never really worried about him when she'd had her own place but now she was sharing with him she was so much more aware of the dangers he put himself in and the strange hours he kept. Not to mention his unhealthy eating habits, starving himself during cases and then bingeing when they ended.

She soon fell asleep only to be woken what seemed like minutes later by the sounds of his violin. She glanced at her clock and groaned 3.47am. She tried rolling over and ignoring him and then putting a pillow over her head but nothing seemed to make a difference. In the end she had to confront him, she needed her sleep; she had work in just over four hours.

She padded downstairs in her nightdress not thinking to put on her dressing gown just intent on getting him to stop playing if possible.

He broke off as soon as she entered the room looking at her by the light of the lamp in the corner of the room. For a moment the whirls of information in his head seemed to still. He took in everything about her from the bed-head hair to the flimsy nightdress which covered up just enough that it made him curious to see more. He swallowed with difficulty and turned away admitting to himself that she looked very sexy and very dangerous. Dangerous because she had no idea of the affect she was having on him in that moment; a moment of human weakness.

'Sorry, did I disturb you?'

'Yes, I can't sleep with you playing.'

'John used to use ear plugs. There's a bag of them in the bathroom cabinet, but don't worry I think I've finished for now.'

He put his instrument down and turned back just in time to see her yawn and stretch, her silky gown sliding up her thighs. His eyes were glued to her petite form, normally so covered in baggy, shapeless clothing. This, this was.....

She let her arms stretch out before dropping back to her sides. 'So how's the case going, have you solved it yet?'

'No, not yet. I need more information, another death...'

'That's nice Sherlock. Anyway I'm going back to bed; maybe you should get some sleep too. Your brain will be better for it.'

He found himself not wanting her to go and he scrambled to come up with a reason for her to remain. 'Maybe I could make us both a drink.....some cocoa? I think John left some behind.'

Molly hesitated. 'Oh, why not, I'm awake now. It might help me get back to sleep. Do you mind?'

She indicated to his dressing gown which he'd removed earlier and thrown onto his chair.

'No, no I suppose not,' he felt unreasonably aggrieved about her clothing herself right up until the moment he saw her in his gown. He wasn't sure which was worse, HIS clothing on her, or that skimpy nightdress. 

He bit on his lip and turned to put the kettle on before distracting himself by rummaging through the cupboards for the cocoa. He was feeling very out of sorts and put it down to his lack of sleep and food, maybe he did need something. Finally he put his hands on the tub and, ignoring the best before date, he spooned some out into the waiting cups.

By the time he took Molly's over to her she was half asleep on the settee all curled up on herself. 

'Thanks Sherlock,' she murmured drowsily as she sat up enough to take her mug. 'Tell me about the case...send me to sleep.' She smiled cheekily at him and he rolled his eyes but he did as she asked going through everything he knew so far, his deductions and hypotheses as much for himself as for her. She nodded and made the odd suggestion but he could see from her increasingly glazed eyes that she wasn't really with him.

Eventually he put his cup down and put his hand on her knee trying to ignore the sparks of feeling low in his abdomen as he did. He shook her gently. 'Come on Molly, time for bed.'

'Mmm with you.... anytime,' she muttered back and he chuckled knowing she wasn't really thinking straight. 

In the end he lifted her from the settee causing her to shriek a little and wake up suddenly. 'What are you doing?'

'Taking you up to your bed, you were asleep.' He'd made it to the bottom of the stairs but she pummeled on his chest with her small fists. ’Well I'm not now so put me down.'

He gently put her onto the first step and couldn't resist saying. 'I thought you would have liked me taking you to bed. Ah well, until tomorrow then Molly.'

Molly's eyes narrowed as she watched him go back into the front room and it was only when she was back in her own room that she realised she was still wearing his dressing gown. She took it off and sat on the edge of her bed contemplating whether she should take it back down but she was too tired to be bothered. She couldn't resist bringing the material up to her face though and breathing in his scent even as she lay herself down. She closed her eyes...she could almost imagine him lying in the bed with her...and with that thought she fell asleep.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH 

The next morning she was embarrassed to wake up finding herself still hugging Sherlock's dressing gown. She rolled her eyes at herself, 'dear God, am I fifteen here or what?' 

She tried to flatten out the creases so he wouldn't suspect when she gave it back to him but in the end she thought it might be safer to launder it before she returned it. There were certain things she didn't want him deducing.

She only saw him briefly over the next couple of days. Another body had been found which Molly duly autopsied but it was so similar to the previous one and the identity was already known so there wasn't a lot for her to do by way of tests. The tox screen on the first body came back and showed that the victim had indeed been drugged though most traces had left the system and wouldn't even have been identified if Sherlock hadn't asked that they be specifically looked for. 

She heard him again early one morning moving around downstairs but he was normally asleep when she left for work and out by the time she got in.

She worked the Saturday so Sunday was her first day off and also her first date with Martin. They met as arranged and Molly had to admit that spending the afternoon with him in the aircraft museum was very informative. She hadn't realised before that he was a pilot. It appeared it wasn't always the well paid job that you'd think it would be and he did the man with a van thing as a sideline to supplement his income.

They did end up having dinner together. Nothing fancy, just pub grub in a place that Molly knew not far from Baker St and as they were having a good time she decided to invite him back for coffee, nothing else just coffee. She knew he wouldn't be the sort to read more into it. 

She hadn't seen Sherlock at the flat earlier but, just in case, she sent off a text before talking to Martin.

Coming back in 20 mins with my date for coffee. If you are there could you make yourself scarce. Molly x

She heard nothing back so assumed he wasn't in. 

Martin was ever so sweet on the way asking if he could hold her hand. She still wasn't sure that there was a spark there but he was nice enough for her to want to give it a chance. 

As she opened the door to Baker St he commented on how fortunate she was to have a flat in such a central location.

'I know, come on up. I couldn't afford it by myself and actually I only recently moved in. It's a flat share with a colleague of mine but don't worry he's out.....or not as the case may be. Sherlock, you're here, didn't you get my text?'

'Oh, was that from you? It pinged but it was over on the kitchen table and you weren't here to pass it to me.'

Molly came in with a shy Martin tagging along behind. 'No, well I wasn't here because I was on my date, remember!' She said the latter quite pointedly in the hopes that he would take the hint but he carried on sitting in his chair with his hands in a prayer position.

'So, who do we have here then?' He finally turned and broke his pose letting his hands come to rest on the chair arms.

Martin was about to introduce himself when Sherlock stopped him with a finger held up as he rose fluidly from his chair, 'no, let me.'

He circled around Martin looking him up and down whilst Molly let out a frustrated sigh, 'Sherlock!' She said warningly as she went over to put the kettle on.

'You're a pilot, not a very good one though and certainly not a confident one. You work for a small firm....one plane, bossy female in charge and a very competent co-pilot who flies far better than you do. You earn a pittance there if not...nothing...no that can't be right. Anyway you do the removal work as your paying job. You have siblings...two at a guess and mum's still alive but dad's dead. How did I do?'

He smiled at Martin but Molly knew it wasn't a genuine smile, more like one a shark would give to its prey before eating it.

'Wow, you're really good. You should do that for a living.'

Sherlock huffed and returned to his chair. 'I do! I'm a consulting detective, the only one in the world.'

Molly came over. 'Martin, this is Sherlock Holmes, Consulting Detective and insufferable show off, Sherlock this is Martin Crieff...a nice guy who is my DATE for this evening. Now, can I take your coat Martin, how do you like your coffee?'

'Black, two sugars for me Molly,' said Sherlock as he sat back down. Just as Martin turned to him with recognition. 'Oh you're the hat detective.'

'Obviously not, do you see a hat?'

 

'No, no I mean the one in the papers, the one who died a few years back...though, hang on...'

Sherlock looked at him and then raised his eyebrows at Molly. 'Yes? In your own time....no rush.'

'Well, you can't be dead can you..I mean you're here so. Did I miss something about you not being dead?'

'Obviously!'

Molly came over with the cups. 'Yours is in the kitchen Sherlock. I'm sure you have things you need to do.'

He stood up and went to retrieve his drink. 'Nope, nothing at all. I'm happy getting to know Martin here.'

Molly would have slapped him if she hadn't had company. She didn't want to take Martin up to her bedroom because she was worried about the messages that would send but it was clear that Sherlock had no intention of going anywhere. She was effectively stuck.

She sat down on the settee and tried to engage in small talk with Martin but Sherlock kept butting in with interesting facts or unasked for opinions. The final straw came when she offered to cook for Martin one night.

'Oh yes, our Molly here does a mean Steak and Kidney pie don't you Molly? Though it's a little like her sex life dry and lacking in meat…'

She was on her feet in a flash. 'Sherlock!' She was furious, speechless almost. Somewhere behind her she heard Martin saying an embarrassed, 'well, I think I'd better be off now, thanks for the coffee.'

Molly spun round as she heard him get up to leave. 'What? No, listen I'm sorry please don't feel you have to go.' She followed him out of the room and down the stairs.

'No, it's OK I have a flight in the morning. We're off to Ireland, I'm err not sure when I'll be back. I'll call you...maybe.'

'Yes, please do.'

By now they were at the door and things turned a little awkward. It was obvious Martin wanted to be anywhere but here and Molly just wanted to kick Sherlock in the shins, hard.

'Goodnight then Molly and...um...thanks for today.' He leant forward and kissed her on the cheek before opening the door and fleeing. Molly watched him make his way down the street before closing the door and resting her forehead on the cool wood for a moment. The calm before the storm!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Molly, well it was never going to be all plain sailing living with Sherlock was it. I hope you liked Martin's reappearance; he didn't stand much of a chance against Sherlock though did he? 
> 
> And just to be clear, to anyone not familiar with Cabin Pressure (though why wouldn't you be it's brilliant) Martin Crieff isn't my real life husband, I'm not sad enough to insert him into my fic. Martin is Benedict's character in the show and just my fantasy husband ;).


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning in this chapter re talking of a child’s death but there’s no detail. If anyone wants to know more please feel free to PM me.

Molly was beyond furious as she made her way back up the stairs. She was muttering insults under her breath and willing herself not to slap him.

As she stalked back into the front room Sherlock was once again sat in his chair with his eyes shut; hands steepled under his chin.

'What the hell was that?'

He opened his eyes frowning slightly as though not quite sure she was talking to him.

'Yes Sherlock, I'm talking to you,' she stabbed the air with her finger pointing it in his direction.

'I was merely doing you a favour Molly, he was obviously beneath you.'

'Beneath me, what does that even mean; beneath me? And who gave you the right to decided who is or isn't good enough for me?'

He stood up and took a step towards her forcing her to look up at him which she did, happily staring him down even though he was almost a foot taller.

'Molly, you've hardly shown good taste so far, I figured you would appreciate my help. He was far too soft and weak for you, not to mention his failed career as a "pilot".' He air quoted the last word. 

'Well you figured wrong. You had no right to scare him away like that, no right Sherlock. You acted like some kind of jealous ex-boyfriend.'

'Boyfriend...me! I think you know me better than that Molly.'

'Well don't act like one then. My love life, who I see and who I don't see, is none....NONE of your business.' She poked him in the chest with her forefinger to emphasise her words.

'Maybe not but I don't like to see you making bad choices. We both know you prefer your men a lot more intelligent, better dressed and slightly more sociopathic!'

'You mean like you. Yes, you heard me. We both know my attraction to you but it's not exactly like you're putting out is it.'

There was a beat of silence before Sherlock took another step towards her and she could see how flushed his cheeks were in anger and knew her own would be the same. He narrowed his eyes. 'Is that what you want then Molly for me to 'put out' as you so eloquently put it?' 

With that he grabbed the back of her head and pulled her roughly to him for a kiss. Their lips met bruisingly hard and he immediately tilted her head so the kiss was deep and passionate but it lasted less than a few seconds before he broke away, breathing hard, only to find Molly's hand whipping across his face in a stinging slap.

'Is this just a game to you Sherlock? For God's sake just let me move on and find someone....anyone else!'

He was about to answer when his phone rang making both of them jump a little. Molly stepped back and turned away as Sherlock picked his phone up. 'Lestrade, what is it?'

Molly went into the kitchen and poured herself a large wine as she heard Sherlock asking questions which made it clear to her that another victim had been found. Well screw him, she thought, he can mind fuck another pathologist into doing his dirty work for him. With that she defiantly turned around and catching his eye she took a large drink before walking past him and up the stairs.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH 

Sherlock finally hung up on Lestrade and ran his hands over his face and then through his hair trying to bring his mind and his emotions under control. He wasn't quite sure what had just happened with Molly but he didn't need John to tell him it was not good. He also knew he had no chance of asking her to carry out the autopsy on the latest victim which meant he would have to put up with whoever was on duty. He closed his eyes for a moment and retrieved the shift logs from his mind palace...Stamford. Well, could have been worse.

He grabbed his coat and threw it on figuring he'd contact John once he were in the cab to get him to join him at the crime scene, he could pick him up on the way. 

He paused at the bottom of the stairs to Molly's room contemplating whether he should say anything but he wasn't sure what he could or should say so in the end he just left.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH 

Molly heard the front door bang shut and she let her head fall back onto her pillow. The anger that she'd felt earlier was leaking away and she was left feeling confused and overwhelmed. She knew part of what she was feeling were the after effects of an adrenaline rush that had kicked in the moment he had kissed her.

She snorted to herself a little at how odd that phrase sounded even in her mind...he had kissed her. Why the hell had he kissed her? They'd argued before, he'd even flirted with her back in the early days of their knowing each other in order to get what he wanted but he had never kissed her before...at least not like that. A kiss on the cheek, yes, but this had been so much more than a kiss on the cheek and that just made it seem cruel.

He knew how she felt and he knew deep down what she want from him and he had just taken it and used it to mock her. Maybe moving in with him had been a terrible mistake but it was too late now, at least in the short term. She was stuck until she could find somewhere else and she was reluctant to have to do that. It was cheap and convenient; she loved the flat and sharing cuppas with Martha. And, if she were honest, she loved being closer to Sherlock, seeing him in his downtime, getting to know him better and more completely. 

Maybe it was a one-off, they could talk about it and find a way past this, she knew they could....at least she hoped they could.

She didn't really get much chance to talk to him over the next couple of days though. The case was still taking up Sherlock's time and he'd spent the previous 24 hours following up a lead in Whitby of all places but he'd returned in the early hours and Molly had crept around in the morning as she'd got ready for work not wanting to disturb him; knowing he probably hadn't had much sleep.

Work that day was particularly hard. It had started off OK but a small child had been brought in and the circumstances were suspicious hence the autopsy.

It was rare for a child this young to come before her and she always hated it. She wanted her own children not a job that forced her to cut up dead ones.

By the time she made her way home she was physically, emotionally and mentally exhausted. As she made her way up the stairs she could hear Sherlock moving around and she just wasn't sure she had the energy to deal with him but she needed a bath and a cup of tea before she could hibernate in her bedroom and so reluctantly she entered the front room.

She found him staring at his wall pacing back and forth. 'Ah Molly, you're here good. I need your opinion on...'

He paused and seemed to look her up and down before he moved forward and gently removed her bag from her shoulder, helping her off with her coat.

'You've had a bad day.'

It was a statement more than a question but Molly found herself nodding, suddenly not trusting herself to speak without bursting into tears.

'Sit down, I'll run you a bath. Would you like a cup of tea or something stronger?'

Molly bit her lip willing herself not to cry. 'Tea...thanks.'

'OK, just wait here.'

She sat on the edge of the settee putting her elbows on her knees and her head in her hands as she listened to him start the bath running before moving into the kitchen to fill the kettle and set it boiling. 

A few minutes later she felt his hand on her shoulder. 'Molly....the bath's ready. I've put your tea in there.'

She nodded but didn't move. A moment later he knelt down in front of her and pulled her hands away from her face. As she looked into his concerned eyes it was all just too much; she let out a choked sob as his arms came around her holding her to him.

The emotion of the day just came flooding out of her and as she cried she heard herself rail against the unfairness of it all, feeling grateful that Sherlock stayed silent and didn't try to use logic or anything else to justify that small boy's death.

As her sobs started to subside he helped her to her feet.

'I'm sorry, I know how much you hate emotional outbursts.'

He smiled and used his hand to tilt her chin up. 'Molly, you are my friend and what kind of friend would I be if I didn't put up with the odd outburst no matter how emotional. Now go have your bath and I'll order us some food. I find I haven't eaten myself for nearly 48 hours so we should both benefit from some sustenance. I'll get Angelo to bring something over...it'll be better than a take away. Now go.'

In the bathroom she quickly stripped and slid into a bath that was just the right temperature. Almost immediately she could feel her muscles start to unwind and her mind start to calm down. She sipped on the cup of tea and reflected on how unexpectedly nice Sherlock's reaction had been. She had expected him to just ignore her distress, talk over it or dismiss her but instead he'd turned a bad day into one she could cope with. She had underestimated him. 

She finished her tea and took her time over bathing and washing her hair and by the time she got out she felt tired but back to her normal self again. As she dried off she looked at her clothes but didn't want to put them back on. Sherlock's dressing gown was hung on the back of the door and she hoped he wouldn't mind her borrowing it again, just until she got upstairs and changed.

As she exited the room he was in the kitchen just putting the food out, decanting it from the foil trays it had been delivered in. He glanced round and if his eyes widened a little at her in that outfit again and if he swallowed a little more heavily than normal Molly was too distracted to notice. 'Mmm smells delicious what did you get us?'

'Garlic and mozzarella pizza plus linguini carbonara for you and penne alla salmone for me.'

He was glad to see Molly smile widely in appreciation, he'd hated seeing her so upset, it wasn't like her. He'd seen her angry before and upset but never this tearful. It had affected him more than he would have thought possible and now, to make it worse, here she was wearing nothing but his dressing gown and he found himself wondering how she would look without it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn’t resist the Whitby reference which is where, in the book, Dracula lands in England. Well it is a vampire related set of murders so…


	7. Chapter 7

They carried their plates into the front room and sat, as they usually did, on the settee. It was the first time they'd had some time alone together since their argument on Sunday and Molly pondered whether to bring it up before deciding against it. Sherlock had been so uncharacteristically kind and she'd been so emotionally wrung out that she just couldn't face it.

Sherlock meanwhile was trying not to notice how his dressing gown had gaped open at Molly's chest as she had sat down. Not that he could see anything, not really but it was what he could almost not see that was starting to bother him. He'd never really found himself so caught up by what a woman was wearing before.

As he ate he considered it and he initially put it down to the fact that she was wearing his dressing gown. He recalled how it had similarly bothered him a few nights before. But then he remembered that Janine had worn his shirts and that had just irritated him more than anything else. So it was Molly then, more than the clothes. But he'd known Molly for years now and had never really found himself interested in what she was wearing before.

He started thinking back over her previous clothing choices but found himself brought back to the present by her asking him about the current case.

'You wanted to ask me something...you know earlier, about your case? How's it going?'

'Not great. We have three victims and so far we have yet to find a link. All three were females and exsanguinated and all three were found with the same bite marks on their neck. We've established that the killer drugs them and hides them until the drug has more or less left their system and then drains their blood using the site of the fake bite mark. We don't know where they are killed, how they were chosen or why he does it, though there is obviously some sexual addiction of some kind to vampirism. He gets off on this, I know he does.'

He fell silent as, from the corner of his eye, he saw Molly shift in her seat causing the dressing gown to slide off her thigh. Her leg was slim and toned and he found himself wondering what her skin would feel like under his touch. He found the food in his mouth suddenly difficult to swallow and he put down his plate and stood up. 'Drink Molly?'

'Oh...err, yes please. Do we have any wine?'

'Since you arrived at the flat we always seem to have wine in, even if there's no food.' He turned and smirked to show he was joking a little before going to pour her a glass whilst getting himself some water, he needed to keep his head clear and in the game. He was close to solving this puzzle and he knew it, he just needed that last piece of the puzzle.

As he walked back in Molly was half turned in her seat looking up at the wall where he'd pinned the pieces of the case, the photos, the autopsy results. Her neck was long and slender and he suddenly wanted to run his tongue up the length of it. God, he needed to get a grip. Maybe she had been right; maybe sharing with her was different to sharing with John. He'd never had these kinds of thoughts about him.

As she turned back to him reaching for her wine he caught a glimpse of the curve of her breast before she pulled the dressing gown straight again; still oblivious, thank God, to his reactions. He felt confused and exasperated with his reactions to her.

'So, if he just wanted to kill them, why bother waiting for the drug to leave their system? What blood type were they?'

'All different. AB negative, O negative and B negative.'

'Hmm.' Molly took a sip of her drink as she gave it some thought.

'They're all quite rare types. I know B positive isn't that rare but there has been a shortage recently. We get emails at work...you know, asking staff of certain blood types if they can donate when the hospital is running short and local supplies are struggling.'

'Show me!'

'Oh well, I delete them normally but...they're probably still in my deleted folder.'

She went over to her laptop and turned it on, signing into the staff portal with Sherlock sighing impatiently behind her. 

'Here we are. There have been a few recently. First one was for AB negative. No surprise there, it's the rarest and they're always asking for that. Right the next one was for O negative. That's me, but I was run off my feet that day so couldn't make it up. And last.....oh!'

Sherlock read it over her shoulder. 'B negative. Molly, you're brilliant. I think we just found our link and the reason why he wants clean blood.' He turned his head and kissed her cheek before grabbing his phone.

'It's me; I think we've found the link. Meet me at Barts in half an hour. I still don't know who's doing it but now we have a steer on the why it won't take long.'

He hung up and went to his bedroom to find his jacket. Molly watched as he put it on and moved to collect his coat and phone. He was buzzing with energy and she loved seeing him like this, on the cusp of a victory.

'Not sure I'll be back tonight Molly so I'll probably see you at Barts tomorrow. Until then...' And he was out the door and racing down the steps.

She couldn't resist moving to the window and watching as he spilled out onto the street, his hand already raised to flag down a taxi, only having to wait a few moments until one appeared. As he climbed in he seemed to sense her gaze and he glanced up before lifting his hand to her and closing the door behind him.

Looked like she had the flat to herself again.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH 

He was right when he said he'd see her the next day. He was still running various tests and looking through files and records as she arrived for work. John was with him and looking suitably tired as was Greg but Sherlock looked as though he'd slept like a baby, not a sign of weariness on him.

She helped out where she could, in between the jobs already booked in for her, and was unsurprised to see that they had gone by mid-morning.

The rest of the day was fairly uneventful but by the time she got home it seemed Sherlock was finally free of the case and in full on celebration mode.

'Ah Molly you're back finally. Come and have some champagne, John's piking and saying he has to go home.'

John waved a greeting to Molly from the settee and rolled his eyes at Sherlock. 'I've already had two glasses and Mary's expecting me. Plus I was out all last night and I'm knackered, the alcohol is going straight to my head. That's what happens when you've had no food.'

'Pah, food. Who needs food? Anyway, I ate with Molly last night, didn't I Molly?' He pushed a glass into her hand and picked up his own which he'd also refilled.

'Right, well I'll be off. Don't forget, Lestrade needs us at the station tomorrow to help him finalise the paperwork and the interviews so don't get too drunk.' He gave Molly a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek. 'Good luck, he can get quite exuberant when a case is finished, especially when it's gone on a few days.'

Molly smiled. 'I'm sure I'll be fine. Tell Mary I said hi and I'll pop in to see her soon.'

'Alright, I will do.' 

She hung up her coat and kicked off her shoes as John left and then joined Sherlock on the settee, Toby settling on her knee and curling up contentedly. It seemed to be 'their place' in the same way that the chairs by the fire had been 'his and John's'.

'Go on then tell me how you solved it. I know you're dying too.'

He gave one if his rare genuine smiles and Molly loved how it lit up his face. She took another sip of the champagne and wrinkled up her nose at all the bubbles. She loved drinking it but it was a rare occurrence and she forgot how quickly it could make her tipsy.

Sherlock launched into his tale of how her clue had sent him back to the hospital. They'd gone through the records of each victim and whether they had ever given blood as well as where and when.

The killer had been clever. Their blood donor records were each over six months old and in one case over twelve months but the link was clear, his name was shown as one of the team that had attended the donor session in each case. It had been painstaking going through each record, where they had donated, when and tracking down the nurses and who overlapped each session but they'd found him in the end.

His house had been filled with vampire lore and paraphernalia. He liked dressing up as a vampire during sex and Sherlock was sure that when they interviewed ex-girlfriends they would confirm a history of biting and/or him getting off on images of vampirism and bloodletting.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH 

Molly wasn't quite sure how they ended up sitting on the floor and leaning against the settee rather than on the settee itself but it had seemed like a good idea at the time; Toby having long since slunk off to Sherlock's room for some peace and quiet. Sherlock poured them both yet another glass and he tipped his glass towards hers, as they picked them up, so that they could clink them together. Somehow they had got through the champagne as well as the remains of the previous night's bottle of wine and now they were well into a second bottle.

'Here's to serial killers everywhere. Long may they flourish keeping me with something to do.'

Molly's forehead wrinkled as she tried to work out whether that was something she should be toasting or not.

'Maybe you should get yourself a new hobby. Something that doesn't involve other people dying.'

Sherlock turned towards her and rested his head on his hand on the edge of the settee. 'What like Molly?'

'Oh, I don't know. Learn to paint, take up bee-keeping, get yourself a boyfriend.'

His raised his eyebrows.'A boyfriend? That would imply that I were gay.'

Molly giggled wondering where that suggestion had come from. 'Well...you know.'

'No...know what Molly?'

'All that gossip...about you and John...that you were..' 

'That we were what?'

'Having sex.' She snorted with laughter again taking another sip of her drink and wondering where her bravado came from.

'Not my area Molly.'

'What? John or the sex. Have you ever had sex?'

She glanced round at him only to find his face seemed closer. She was caught by his gaze and her breath hitched in her throat at the look he was giving her.

'Yes, Molly, I have had sex but only ever with women...well apart from that one time.' He frowned and looked off into the room as if he were recalling something.

'So why don't you anymore? Don't you miss it.'

'Occasionally I do but mostly I sublimate my feelings into my work.'

'But why did you stop?'

He looked back at her. 'Do you know how easy it is to get someone to sleep with you when you can use deductions about their life? Plus it was all part of the drug scene I was into in my youth. It was all meaningless and faceless and just made me feel empty over time. It seemed easier to give it up when I kicked the drug habit. Let's just say one was easier to give up than the other.'

He smirked. 'But enough of me what about you? I'd ask if you miss it but given you're recent forays into dating we both know that you do?'

'Hey,' she frowned, 'it hasn't been that long.'

He raised an eyebrow again.

'Well maybe it's been a few months.' She closed her eyes and let her head fall back onto the chair. 'Yes...yes, I miss it: the feeling of skin on skin. The weight of a man lying on top of me, feeling him fill me.' She lifted her hand and let it trail down between her breasts; completely unaware of the affect she was now having on a drunken and far less inhibited Sherlock.

Suddenly he moved forward and pressed his lips to hers. Molly was equally too drunk to be that shocked and instead just opened her mouth to him as she hooked her hand around the back of his neck. The kiss deepened and Molly moaned at the feeling of his hands pulling her over and onto him until she was sitting astride his legs.

A part of his brain was screaming at him that this was a mistake and that he would regret it but he'd been thinking about this for too long now and with the addition of the alcohol he was too far gone. The feeling of her body on his, her weight sitting on his crotch brought back too many memories that he had suppressed for far, far too long.

Her hands felt like they were everywhere, in his hair, on his chest, sliding along his back. Before he knew it his shirt was undone and she was starting on his trousers.

He lifted her shirt and she broke off from kissing him just long enough for him to pull it off over her head and throw it into some distant point in the room. His mind stuttered as he realised she had been naked underneath, how had he not realised she had had no bra on today. 

He put one hand behind her lower back and the other under the back of her head as he bent her backwards forcing her already hard nipples to jut up and into his eager mouth. She clung to his hair, tugging on his curls causing all sorts of physical sensations to wash through his body, all ending in his groin. Her hips were rocking against him as she tried to satisfy herself using his still-clothed erection for stimulation. 

Moments later he pushed her skirt up her thighs feeling the skin he'd seen the night before; please to find it felt as soft and smooth as he had imagined. He reached her knickers and hooked his finger through them before pulling down sharply and ripping the material in half. Molly groaned loudly as his fingers invaded her and his mouth covered hers once more, kissing her deeply as she rocked against his hand feeling him inside her, his palm against her clit.

It took only moments for her to want more from him and he helped her to move his pants down just enough to allow her to remove his painfully hard erection. She stroked him twice before lifting herself onto her knees and sliding down onto him. She felt so warm and tight and he couldn't remember sex ever feeling this good. 

 

He let Molly set the pace as his hands alternated between her breasts and her backside pulling her against him harder and harder. He felt her tighten around him as she came and he loved the way she called out his name. As soon as she stopped he found he wanted to hear it again.

He still needed more though and so he turned them over until Molly was lying on the carpet underneath him. He lifted her knees higher and started to thrust into her. It felt so good, he had missed it more than he had ever realised. He could hear her urging him on, telling him how good he felt and that she was close to coming again.

He was so hard it was painful but gradually he felt his balls tighten deliciously and as he came he felt Molly orgasm for a second time. White light blanked his mind as he felt himself pumping inside her over and over. The feeling of relief and satisfaction overwhelmed him and he let himself fall onto her knowing she could take his weight, feeling her hands move lazily over his back.

But even as they started to separate and sit back up Sherlock started to feel the enormity of what he had done. He needed to get away, he needed to think, his mind felt slow and as though he were wading through treacle. How much had they had to drink? The answer came fast too much, far, far too much.


	8. Chapter 8

When Molly woke up the next morning she felt awful. Her head was pounding and she knew she was going to be sick. Within seconds she was in her small bathroom retching over the toilet bowl and vowing never to drink again. 

Thankfully she had some aspirin in her cabinet and she staggered back to bed and sat in the semi-dark sipping on water and trying to remember just how much she'd had to drink. She hadn't had that much in years. 

It was all Sherlock's fault for bringing home that bottle of champagne. That's what had started it. 

'Oh!' And just like that she suddenly remembered. Her eyes opened and her hand came to her mouth as she had a recollection of her and Sherlock.....no, no surely they couldn't have.....she remembered sliding onto him, that feeling of delicious fullness.....god, no.....she closed her eyes and could see his face as he came calling her name. Her memory was fuzzy but that stood out clearly. She had never, ever seen him look so gorgeous.

Her hands could almost remember how his skin had felt and she could feel the ache down below that told her she'd been well used the night before.

She wanted to feel happy but she also recalled how he had made his excuses quite soon after. This was not the start of a happy ever after story; this was possibly the start of her finding somewhere else to live.

She sat there for quite some time pondering what she should do and whether she could even face going downstairs. She stayed quiet and tried to hear if there were any movement down there but she couldn't hear anything.

In the end the need for coffee became too much and wrapping herself up in a dressing gown she tiptoed her way downstairs. When she got to the front room though she found Mrs Hudson dusting. 'Morning Molly dear. I'm just making the most of Sherlock being out to keep on top of this place. Oh the mess he makes, honestly I don't know why he needs half these papers and as for my poor wall...' She waved in the direction of the wall above the settee still covered in a myriad of papers from the case he had just solved.

'Has Sherlock gone out then?'

'Yes, John called for him about an hour ago. It took him quite some time to rouse him and get him showered and dressed but he managed it in the end. Something about wrapping up the case. He did grumble but John insisted he was needed. I'm sure he'll be back soon though.'

Molly finished making her coffee and brought another through for Mrs Hudson who sank down into the chair with a grateful sigh. 'Oh that's very nice. Now how are you Molly, you look a little unwell. Are you OK?'

Molly found herself on the verge of tears and suddenly needing someone to talk too but not sure if she should.

The older woman tilted her head and pursed her lips. 'What's that boy done now? I knew he'd struggle sharing with a woman; it's totally different. It's odd isn't it how he can be so astute and clever in some ways and then so intensely stupid in others. Just....well...whatever it is, don't let him get away with it. Be firm about your expectations. John was always a bit too weak with him, gave in to him too much. It's not good for him.

'Anyhow, I'd best get on. I want to change his bed before he gets back. Honestly, I don't know who he thinks does it for him because he never thinks to do it himself. The sheets would be in there for months if I didn't do it.'

She drained her cup and then stood up leaving Molly sipping on her drink deep in thought. In the end she contacted Mary to see if there was any chance she could meet up for drinks after her shift before glancing at the clock, damn she needed to get ready for work, at least it was a short and late shift today so she'd had a chance to recover somewhat. Still feeling slightly ropey she made her way to the bathroom for a welcome soak in the tub.

As she lay in the bubbles she heard Sherlock and John returning to the flat and the murmur of voices as they settled down to whatever they were doing. Great she thought now I have to run the gauntlet to get back to my room. She finally exited the bath and as she dried off she determined to hold her head up high, she had done nothing wrong and would not be made to feel ashamed in any way. If Sherlock couldn't cope with what they had done that was his problem.

She wrapped up in her robe with her hair in a towel and opened the door before walking out into the room. John was sat in his chair with a cuppa and a paper whilst Sherlock was sat at the desk working on his laptop. She saw him glance at her out of the corner of his eye and a flush of colour appear high on his cheekbone but other than that there was no acknowledgement of her existence.

John swiveled around smiling and greeted her. 'So, how are you feeling this morning because his nibs here was definitely worse for wear?'

She heard a huff from Sherlock but he didn't say anything. 'Yes, let's just say I think we both had far too much to drink last night. Reminds me why I don't drink as much nowadays, you lose half your day to a hangover and suffer all the regrets from the night before.' She directed the latter more towards Sherlock but he continued to stare intently at his screen as though it held the answer the life, the universe and everything.

'Anyway, I have to get a shuffle on as I'm in work in an hour. Oh, by the way I'm hoping to meet Mary later for some hair of the dog if you are around to mind Elizabeth. It would be good to catch up it feels like ages since I saw her.'

'Yes that's no problem it'll do her good to get out as well. Anyway just count yourself fortunate you're getting out of the flat. This ones being insufferable so I'm not planning on staying too long. He can find another lackey to grumble and shout at. Just make sure it's not you eh Molly!'

She laughed at his joke and then fled upstairs. So that's how it was going to be....the silent treatment.

She sat on the edge of her bed and pinched the top of her nose, breathing deeply and trying to calm her reactions. She wanted to scream and cry, she didn't know whether to be more angry or upset and certainly didn't know whether her anger was at Sherlock for ignoring and using her or at herself for letting him, knowing what he was like. 

She needed an outside perspective on it; she needed Mary.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH 

Sherlock could vaguely hear John wittering away in the background but he wasn't actually taking in any of the conversation. His whole mind was centred on Molly and what they had done the night before. 

Part of him wanted to delete it; to pretend it had never happened but he knew he couldn't. It wasn't just that he didn't want to but he didn't actually think it would be possible; there were limits to even his mental capabilities. He hadn't fled because he hadn't enjoyed what they had done he had fled because of the potential impact on his life and his image of who he was. Molly could conceivably be the one who could rewrite him completely and....honestly...he was scared. He wasn't sure if he were ready for that, if he would ever be ready for that. So, instead it had been easier to ignore her, at least for the time being, he needed to think it through. 

He was aware though of every creak of the floorboard upstairs as she moved around getting ready, hearing her light footsteps on the stairs and her cheery goodbye to John. He knew he ought to say something...anything but he couldn't find his voice so instead he just carried on staring at the screen of his laptop taking none of the information in. 

'Are you even listening to a word I've been saying? You know, I don't come here for the good of my health I come here to help you but if you can't even be bothered...'

Sherlock shut John up with a wave of his hand as he stood and moved to his normal chair sitting opposite the first and last person who had changed the trajectory of his life. Maybe John could help him work this out although he worried that John would err on the side of sentimentality rather than logic.

'I need to talk to you...about Molly.'

'Oh?'

'Yes...see the thing is...' Sherlock paused wondering how to phrase his question.

'Is the flat share not going so well?'

'No, no it's fine.'

'So you're getting on OK then?'

'Yes, well, I mean I think we are...we were, well apart from that incident with her date.'

John narrowed his eyes.'What incident with her date?'

'It's not important. It's just last night we....'

John tilted his head looking at his friend with an almost astonished wonder. 'You what Sherlock? Don't tell me you finally kissed her.'

Something about what he said stopped Sherlock in his tracks. 'What do you mean finally?'

'Well, it's just Mary's had it in her head for a while that you are in love with Molly and just need a push to hook up with her.'

Sherlock grimaced. 'A push...hook up with...God you're all as bad as each other.'

'Why who else has said something?'

'Molly said I didn't "put out" whatever that means.'

John smirked. 'So, you kissed her...how was it?'

Sherlock shifted uncomfortably in his seat. 'It was maybe a bit more than a kiss.'

His friend sat back in his seat and raised his eyebrows. 'How much more are we talking here Sherlock?'

There was another pause.

'We may have...umm...had sex.'

'MAY have had sex?'

Sherlock scowled. 'Alright, fine, we DID have sex but it was a mistake. We were both drunk and we got into talking about it and....I don't know, one thing seemed to lead to another.'

John smiled. 'Yes, it often does. So, how does Molly feel about it?'

There was another uncomfortable shift in the seat and Sherlock avoided making eye contact. John leant forward. 'My God, you haven't spoken to her. What did you do Sherlock? Fuck her and leave her. Use her and throw her away afterwards. That's low even for you.'

'No, I mean....I just haven't had a chance...I was drunk...' Even to his own ears his excuses seemed lame. As always John held up the mirror showing him his own actions reflected back at him and never in a good light.

'So, what now then Casanova?'

'Maybe you're right I need to talk to Molly I wouldn't want her to have any expectations.'

'No, heaven forbid she should expect anything from you.'

'You know I was hoping that you'd be able to help me in this John not just throw barbs.'

John leant forward putting his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands together. 'Sorry. But Sherlock, are you so sure this was just a one off...a mistake. Maybe it could be the start of something for you both. Molly's so much more than a normal woman and she gets you. You'd be lucky to have her as a partner.'

'Do you know me at all John? Haven't I always told you I'm married to my work. Sentiment...emotions they're just a pointless distraction.'

'Maybe so but you might find that now you have them that not following them proves to be the greater distraction. People change Sherlock...even you. I suggest you talk to Molly and soon...if not don't be surprised when she a) moves out and b) moves on...with someone else.'

He slapped his knees and stood up looking down at his friend. 'Trust me Sherlock make the right decision now...it'll save you a lot of heartache in the future.'

Sherlock scowled and refused to look at him. 

'Right, suit yourself I'm off. Looks like I'm spending an evening bonding with my daughter whilst Molly and Mary go out. I'll see you tomorrow.'

With that he turned and walked away leaving Sherlock with a decision to make.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing like a bit of John Watson to call Sherlock out when he's being an ass. What decision do we want Sherlock to make and what do we think he'll do?


	9. Chapter 9

Molly was so glad to finally finish work. It was just after 8.00 and she just had time to shower and change before meeting Mary at a pub just down the road from the Watson's house. Mary had already promised to have a white wine and soda waiting for her when she arrived.

Thankfully it had been fairly quiet at work, just a couple of routine autopsies and some paperwork and there had been no sign of Sherlock. Molly didn't know whether to feel happy or sad about that. They needed to talk but she didn't think in work was the right place and anyway she wanted to see what Mary thought first.

The tube ride over was event free and Molly entered the half empty pub just after their agreed time to find Mary sitting in a quiet corner with both their drinks.

As Molly sat down Mary smiled and waved her hand around the pub, 'listen to that Molly.'

'Listen to what?' She couldn't hear anything out of the ordinary.

'Adult conversation....not a baby crying in sight. Did you know this is my first evening without Elizabeth since she was born, have you any idea how much I've been looking forward to it? Don't get me wrong I love her to bits but it's never ending Molly. I think I've forgotten who I am without her. John's already talking about us having more but I don't know...maybe I'll feel differently in a few more months but at the moment I haven't got the time or energy for another one.'

They clinked their glasses and talked about babies and the trials of motherhood for a few more minutes until Mary put her hand up to call an end to the conversation.

'You know what, I have an evening off, why am I spending it talking about Elizabeth who I'm with ALL the time? When we could be talking about the far more interesting subject of you and Sherlock having sex!'

'Oh, you heard about that.'

'Hmm, just a little. So when were you going to tell me? And how long has it been going on? John heard a bit from Sherlock but he was cagey on the details...John that is, didn't want to betray a confidence but I knew something was up as soon as I saw him and I didn't let it rest until he'd spilled.'

'Well, that's why I wanted to meet up with you. It only happened the once...last night after he finished the case, we had a few drinks and well...'

'Don't "well" me I want the details. Was he good, was he really a virgin? John said he was but I don't believe it...not in a million years.'

Molly laughed at the outright curiosity in her friend’s voice. 'Yes, it was good, well as good as drunk sex can be, and no he wasn't a virgin. I do remember him saying something about having had sex before.'

'Great, so what's the problem? Why are you here with me instead of home shagging him?'

Molly took a deep breath and willed herself not to get upset. She paused long enough though for Mary to lean forward and put her hand over Molly's. 'That fucking bastard...what did he do?'

'Nothing, he's done nothing. That's the problem. He left soon after and hasn't spoken to me since. He obviously just sees it all as a huge mistake and wants nothing more to do with me. I....I think I need to move out.'

'Oh Molly...' Mary shook her head and sighed. 'If he were here right now I would happily punch him for you. Don't give up on him though!'

Molly frowned. 'What do you mean?'

'Listen, I've long believed that if anyone can bring out the emotion in that man it's you and I was sure that when you moved in it wouldn't be long before he realised he was in love with you.'

She smiled at Molly who just continued to look at her in confusion. 'This is hardly showing me he's in love with me Mary.'

'No, but it's proving that you're getting under his skin. Come on, be honest, a month ago would you ever have thought he would sleep with you...ever, no matter the reason.'

'No, no I suppose I wouldn't.'

'And yet here you are having slept with him. You shouldn't be disheartened Molly, you should be victorious. He's within your grasp I just know it. We just need to capitalise on it.'

'I have no idea what you're planning Mary but I'm really not sure.'

'Come on, what have you got to lose? It's going to take you at least a month before you can find somewhere else to live and a few more weeks before you can logistically move out. Why not see if you can seduce him into a proper relationship in the meantime?'

Molly worried the skin at the side of her thumb nail as she thought through what Mary was saying, could she do this...should she?

'Well, what kind of thing did you have in mind?'

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH 

Sherlock spent a sleepless, disturbed night thinking about what he should say to Molly. He had been honest with John, he really didn't want her to move out. He was happy having her here, someone to come home to, interesting and challenging conversation in the evenings as well as sharing food and companionship.

In many ways she was a better flat mate that John. They had more overlapping interests in the sciences, having her living there had meant a more regular supply of body parts and she also disposed of the old ones without him even having to ask. It worked, it was a friendship that meant something to him and suited his work and his downtime. But that didn't mean he wanted more. Relationships meant effort and compromise both things he wasn't good at.

He finally rose from his bed feeling worse than he had the night before, he needed coffee and some peace and quiet. Or better still a case that would take his mind completely away from his own internal problems.

He opened his bedroom door and moved into the kitchen at the same time as Molly exited the bathroom wrapped in nothing but a skimpy towel. Her hair wrapped up in another; exposing her slim neck. He had a sudden memory of his mouth travelling down the length of her neck. His eyes followed the same path watching the water sliding down into the towel which barely seemed to cover her breasts.

'Oh, morning Sherlock you're looking a bit tired. Did you not sleep well? Oops.' She dropped her nightgown that she had been carrying and as she bent to pick it up the towel slipped off on one side exposing the full length of her back. Sherlock immediately moved forward to help her rewrap the towel and gather her belongings.

She seemed too close all of a sudden, far too close as she looked up at him with those eyes, a delightful blush spreading over her cheeks. 'Sorry....thanks, are you making coffee?'

He took a step away from her moving out of her personal space and had to clear his throat before he could speak. 'Yes, would you like a cup?'

'Please, I'll get dressed and be down in a few minutes. I think we need to talk.'

Sherlock just grunted and moved to the kettle as he heard her walking away. Dammit now he had the image of her naked back fresh in his memory. He needed a case!

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH 

Molly felt ridiculous. It really had been a coincidence that she'd left the bathroom at the same time as he'd come out of his bathroom and dropping her clothes was her normal clumsy self but maybe loosening her grip on her bath towel had been down to Mary's influence. She hadn't meant for it to fall away quite so completely though but at least it meant her blush of embarrassment was real. 

She dressed quickly in slim fit jeans and a white shirt and after biting her lip and thinking about it for a minute she undid an extra button at the top whilst cursing Mary under her breath.

When she went back down Sherlock was sat in his normal seat still sporting stubble on his chin which just made Molly itch to rub her hand across it. Instead she sat opposite him and tucked her feet up under her as she picked up her own cup.

She took a deep breath and then started. 'Listen we need to talk about the other night.' She ignored Sherlock's huff of exasperation and ploughed on.'We're both adults and we were both responsible and I don't know about you but I enjoyed it and don't want to have to feel as though I have regrets about it.'

'Strange you mentioned regrets when you were talking to John.'

She frowned and looked at him had that hurt him? 'Well, maybe I was just lashing out at the fact that you were ignoring me. And you have been ignoring me Sherlock!'

He looked away at that comment but didn't say anything.

'If you want me to look for a new place to live I'll understand but it's going to take me a few weeks to find somewhere and....'

'NO!' His outburst took even himself by surprise and he took a moment to gather his thoughts before he continued. 'No, Molly you're right. It happened and it was good but it can't happen again. I need to keep my brain clear for my work do you understand? It's not that I don't....like you or appreciate your company because I do and I would prefer you to stay if you think you can.'

Molly sipped on her drink as they both watched each other for a moment.

'OK then, I'll stay...for now. We'll see how it goes. Right well I'd best get to work. Will you be coming in?'

'Yes probably. I've been sent some ash samples from a contact in east India. I'm fairly certain that three of them are types I've already identified but I'm excited about the fourth. I could do the tests here but the equipment in your lab is better.

'Great, good, well I'll see you later then.'

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH

Sherlock was still thinking about Molly as she left the flat. He couldn't seem to shake her off at the moment. He was convinced he just needed a distraction, some kind of case. He sent a quick text to John demanding he find something and then he made his way into the shower.

He closed his eyes under the spray of the water and let his mind wander; his thoughts drifting back to earlier that morning when he'd met Molly following her own shower. He licked his lips as he remembered the droplets of water sliding over the swell of her bosom and he remembered the feel of her breast in his mouth. He imagined himself pulling the towel from her completely and seeing what he'd wanted to see; her naked body.

Without even fully realising it he'd put the soap down and his lathered hand had moved lower to grip himself as he leant his head on his other arm against the wall of the shower.

He saw himself move forward seeing her slim frame take a step back away from him as he looked over her but she looked at him with lust-filled eyes and it took his breath away. He kissed her feeling her damp skin against his thin t shirt, her arms wrapping around his shoulders as he pushed her up against the wall. He heard himself groan as her tongue invaded his mouth and it was the work of a moment to lift her so her legs wrapped around his hips. 

He could feel her warm centre against his cock rubbing and teasing him and he just wanted to fuck her against the wall until she screamed his name. He could clearly remember just how good it had sounded that night.

His hand had been moving slowly, jerking himself off as he thought of Molly but now his grip tightened and his pace quickened. His eyes were tight shut and his breath was coming a short, sharp gasps and his mind went into overdrive remembering her smell, the taste of her skin and her mouth, the feel of her wet heat wrapped around his aching cock.

He slid into her and it felt as though he were coming home. He could feel her nails scraping his skin and her mouth on his neck as he pushed himself inside her over and over again feeling his arousal building with every thrust of his hips. 

His movements faltered as he felt his orgasm start, he heard himself saying her name over and over as he pushed into his own hand wishing it were more. Then he came; semen mixing with the shower water in long streaks as he pumped himself dry.

He turned and leant his back against the cool wall tiles as he rubbed his face with his hands, God what had gotten into him, is this what he was reduced to, jerking off in the shower to images of Molly! He needed a case!

Just then there was a banging on the bathroom door. 'Sherlock it's me. Are you planning on coming out anytime soon because I haven't got all day?'

Looked as though John had arrived.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well come on did we really expect Sherlock to make the correct decision right away. The man's a boofhead when it comes to emotional maturity and knowing what he actually needs :). Am I right or not?


	10. Chapter 10

It was mid-afternoon before he made it into Barts. John had managed to come up with nothing case wise and Sherlock was starting to feel desperate. He needed something, anything to move his mind away from Molly.

John had asked him how things were going between them and had approved when Sherlock had recounted their conversation. He was still insisting though that Sherlock's 'feelings' for Molly might prove impossible to ignore and much though Sherlock had wanted to scoff at his assertions he couldn't quite bring himself to do it. He just kept remembering, with shame, his weakness in the shower.

He would overcome this, he was Sherlock Holmes, he could do whatever he damn well put his not inconsiderable mind to.

It was almost soothing to be in the sterile lab, to sit at his favourite microscope and to immerse himself in his tests.

He had been almost right about the samples. Two he quickly proved he'd already documented. The third took longer however, it was one of the more obscure types and he had taken some time to work out which of his existing list it belonged to. He then moved onto the fourth and felt his excitement levels increase as he began his experiments. 

He barely noticed when Molly entered the lab and set up near him with her paperwork. They had done this a thousand times, sharing space, a companionship in their isolated activities. An hour or more passed before he was aware of Molly standing and stretching her aching muscles. She wandered over. 'Hey, how's it going? Is it a new type?'

He looked up and smiled openly, like a child getting just what they wanted for Christmas. 'Yes, yes I think it is. Take a look.'

He wasn't quite sure why he did what he did but instead of standing and letting her sit in his seat to view the scope he just leant to one side meaning Molly had to lean over him to look.

She was so close he could smell her, he could see the fine hairs at the base of her hairline, the ones that wouldn't fit up into her ponytail, which lay inches from his face. He had an overwhelming desire to kiss her neck just behind her ear and even moved forwards a little just as she turned to talk to him after viewing his slide.

Their faces were so close he could feel her breath on his skin. He saw her eyes dilate and her mouth open as though in anticipation of his kiss and he was almost at the point of doing it. Of just leaning in and kissing her but then she pulled away and stood, though he could see the effort it had cost her in the way her breathing had got heavier. 'I have to be honest Sherlock, I'm not sure I know what I was looking at other than it being tobacco ash but i'm glad it's what you were looking for. How many does that make now?'

'Well, I still have a few more tests but if I'm right 244.'

'OK well I'm finishing now. How long are you planning on staying, I can pick up some food on my way home?'

He knew he ought to make some sort of excuse and go anywhere but home but he found himself just agreeing and saying he'd be back in two hours. He needed a case!

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH 

Molly got a phone call from Mary as she arrived back in Baker St carrying the ingredients for cottage pie. She was cheating a little by using shop bought mash but she couldn't be bothered with all that peeling and chopping.

'Hey, is he there? How's it going?'

'No, he's not here but he'll be back soon. And I don't know how it's going.'

'Of course you do now tell me everything.'

Molly described their conversation this morning and her dropping her towel, she got a whoop of appreciation from Mary for that one. She also described that awkward moment that afternoon where she'd found herself tempted to kiss him before pulling away.

'No, Molly you should have just done it, seen what his reaction was. I can tell you for nothing I bet he would have kissed you back.'

'But what if he hadn't Mary, it would have been humiliating and we're only just back on an even keel from the other night. I don't want to risk it.'

'Well, you know my opinion on the matter and I don't think it will be long before I'm proven right. God, Lizzie's woken back up already. I'd better go, speak to you soon.'

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH 

Molly was just pulling the pie out of the oven when Sherlock got back. He was treated to a fine view of her backside as she bent over the oven. Her shirt had pulled up out of her jeans and showed off a sliver of skin and he had to take a deep breath to try to stop his mind plummeting into the gutter at the sight.

She glanced over her shoulder and smiled. 'Hey, you're here. Perfect timing, I'm just about ready to serve up so you have about five minutes if you want to change or anything.'

In the end he just removed his jacket, kicked off his shoes and rolled his sleeves up. He threw himself into his chair and picked up his violin, strumming it like a guitar as he watched Molly move around the kitchen.

Her hair was falling out of her ponytail and she had a smudge of some kind of sauce on her face but he thought she looked gorgeous. He'd never really admired her looks in a conscious way before but since she'd moved in he'd found himself noticing things more and more; her smile, the way her nose was slightly upturned, the warmth of her eyes when she looked at him.

He closed his eyes for a moment and concentrated on just breathing in and out, trying to still his mind. He was trying to get back to normal, to just thinking about work, but he was man enough to acknowledge that he was failing dismally. At times like these where it was just the two of them in the flat and he had no case he even found himself wondering why he was fighting so hard.

'Right, it's ready. Do you want to eat there or...'

He stood and went to help her with the plates. 'No, we can sit in our normal spot.'

They ate and chatted for a while until Sherlock couldn't bear it anymore. He leant forward, almost without thinking, and caught her jaw with his hand whilst he wiped the smudge away with his thumb.

'Oh,' her hand fluttered to her face even as her eyes locked with his. 'Was there something there...'

He couldn't stand it any longer; he could feel her pulse under his fingers as they slid down to her neck and he could feel her physically reacting to his touch and it seemed to trigger a similar reaction in himself. For once, he thought about just giving into it.

Instead he stood. 'Well, thank you for dinner Molly. I'll see you tomorrow.'

He didn't look back, didn't dare. He felt as though he had been on the brink of losing and Sherlock didn't like to lose but with her he felt as though he was at risk of losing everything.

He closed his bedroom door and leant against it breathing heavily. He'd be lucky to get a decent night’s sleep tonight. But once again he was wrong. He fell into a deep sleep, one which soon gave way to dreams and in his dreams he had no control, no control at all.

She came to him wearing nothing but heels and a lab coat , her hair up in its normal pony tail, bouncing off her shoulders. She carried the riding crop which he sometimes used to bruise the corpses in her morgue but as she walked towards him swaying her hips provocatively she slapped the crop with a sharp crack onto the palm of her hand.

He already knew he was hard, he was always hard when she came to him in his dreams. He went to move his hands to reach out to her but he was stopped short. He glanced above his head, where he lay on the bed, and saw his hands were cuffed. He tugged again a couple of times but they didn't budge at all. 

Just then he felt a stillness in the room before he jumped at the feel of the crop being drawn down the side of his body from his armpit to his hip bone.

'That's what I like to see Sherlock, a bit of attention. I don't like it when you ignore me.'

His eyes raked hungrily over her body taking in the low cleavage and the expanse of thigh visible where the buttons on the lab coat had been left undone. He felt his erection bob against his stomach desperate for its own bit of attention. Molly licked her lips and slid the crop over his stomach making his skin twitch and dance. 

He felt a trickle of fear at how close she was to his erection with the crop and he watched the end of it in a morbid kind of fascination.

She lifted it and with a quick flick and a burst of sharp, sweet pain she hit his thigh. 'I said eyes on me!'

His eyes immediately came back to her as he felt the crop idling down his leg.

'What should I do with you Sherlock! Hmm, you think you can on ignore me, you think you can suppress how you feel about me.' 

There was another whistling noise and the pain flickered on the opposite thigh. She smoothed over the spot with her hand making him groan, wanting to feel her sliding onto his cock.

She seemed to know where his mind had gone and she climbed onto the bed kneeling at his side with her hand trailing up and down his hip, fingers dancing dangerously close to where he wanted them but not close enough. He tried to move his body but she shifted with him always keeping just to the side.

'You want me Sherlock! In every sense. You want me in your life, in your home and in your bed. You just won't admit it. Where do you want me now Sherlock?'

The moment he thought it the dream seemed to shift and he was sat on the edge of his bed with Molly knelt between his legs sucking him off. He moaned and bucked his hips up forcing his cock deeper into her warm, wet mouth. His hands were in her hair, tangling and tugging feeling her teeth scraping down his shaft and her hands squeezing and playing with his balls as she took him deeper. He was on the verge of coming when she sat back and looked up at him; licking her lips and smiling sinfully, 'you want me on my knees do you?'

The dream shifted once more and now she was on her hands and knees on the bed completely naked and exposed to him. She looked over her shoulder. 'You can have me, if you need me, anytime. Do you need me Sherlock?'

He found himself nodding his head as he scrambled to join with her. 'Yes, God...yes I need you. I need all of you.'

He took hold of her hips and sank himself into her until he was balls deep with no more of himself left. She felt perfect; tight, warm, wet. He could hear himself moaning as he withdrew and plunged back in watching his cock entering her and feeling her muscles tighten and contract around him as she started to come.

'Tell me you need me...tell me!'

His orgasm washed over him and he could hear himself agreeing with her. 'I do, God Molly, I do. I need you!'

He woke suddenly still calling her name but hearing his phone ringing dragging him from the dream. But it was too late his pyjamas were a sticky, ruined mess and it felt as though his life was too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Sherlock, I fear he is fighting the inevitable. Should he just go ahead and give in or do you want more teasing?


	11. Chapter 11

It was Lestrade on the phone, finally he had another case and it couldn't have come soon enough. He had to lie to Lestrade about how long it would take him to get there knowing he needed to shower first before he could leave the flat. 

As he stood in the shower washing he felt angry; angry that he had feelings and he couldn't seem to control them. John's words came back to him maybe not following your feelings will prove to be the greater distraction. He hated when he was wrong and hated even more when John was right. He hit the wall hard with the flat of his hand almost relishing the sting of pain until it reminded him of Molly using the riding crop on him. What was wrong with him? He couldn't get her out of his mind. Thank God he had some work to occupy him now.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH 

Molly didn't see Sherlock for the next 36 hours until he appeared in the lab with John in tow. They were in the middle of a serious and very high profile kidnap case, the wife of a senior politician, and so far their attempts to find her had proved unsuccessful. Sherlock was in a foul mood and John looked to be on the verge of punching his best friend.

'I don't know what you expect me to do Sherlock but I am not a bloody mind reader. If you need me to do something, if you want me to know something then I suggest you just bloody well say it and not expect me to just know it.'

'I apologise John I had credited you with a vast deal more intelligence than it appears you actually have. Maybe if you used your brain to engage with the case instead of spending most of your time thinking about sex we'd be further along.'

John snorted with laughter. 'I don't think it's my mind that's been corrupted by sex.'

Molly looked up nervously suddenly changing her mind about intervening in this fight.

'What exactly is that supposed to mean?'

'It means Sherlock that you're so busy thinking you're above all our pathetic human needs that you won't even acknowledge that denying yourself is compromising this case and you know it.'

Sherlock drew himself up to his full height, his eyes narrowing. Molly had never seen him looking so imposing or angry. Quickly she stood up, her stool scraping noisily on the floor and distracting the two men who looked in her direction.

'Listen...it sounds like it's been a difficult case so far. Maybe a break would do you both good. John, why don't you go home and get some rest; I can help Sherlock with any tests that need running.'

John pursed his lips and with a deep breath he unfisted his hands. 'Yes, maybe you're right. Text me if you make any kind of breakthrough.' He nodded his head at Molly and then turned on his heel and marched out as though he had been dismissed from a parade ground.

Sherlock sat down on one of the lab stools and washed one hand across his face. Molly still felt a bit nervous and confused about the argument they'd been having but he looked so disheartened that she found herself going over and putting her hand on his shoulder.

'Hey, are you OK?'

He shook his head. 'No, I'm not. I just can't seem to get a grip on this case Molly. I'm missing something and whatever it is it's vital. We have 24 hours left before the government either pays the ransom or she's killed and I can confirm that they absolutely won't pay and the terrorists will kill her. We have to uncover their hiding place...we have to....'

'When did you last eat or sleep?'

He waved a hand. 'Why does that even matter Molly? That's neither relevant nor important.'

'Yes, it is! Your brain might be one of the best in the world but it cannot function at its maximum without food and without rest. Now is there anything specific you need to do here?'

He looked around and shook his head. 'No, I just needed somewhere to think and here was as good a place as any.'

'Fine, well let's go back to Baker St. I can make you a snack, you can have a shower and a rest and I bet you anything you'll solve the case.'

He huffed loudly. 'I really don't think....'

Molly shrugged off her lab coat and reached for her bag and jacket. 'Do you have a better suggestion? No, well let's try it my way for once OK.'

In the end he just followed her out; too exhausted and worn down to argue.

The ride back to Baker St took less than fifteen minutes and Molly was true to her word. She heated up some soup and toast whilst Sherlock took a quick shower. She knew he wouldn't want a heavy meal but he needed to eat something. She was confident that once he felt rested his brain would kick into gear and he'd solve it.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH 

Sherlock had to admit that Molly and John were both right in their own way. He did feel much better after his shower and the soup that Molly had made for him. He lay back on the settee and closed his eyes breathing deeply just as Molly asked if he wanted to talk about the case.

He stayed with his eyes shut but slowly and carefully walked her through the main aspects of the case. She asked a few questions but still the nagging continued. There was something there...he knew it. 

Finally he opened his eyes to see Molly watching him quietly from the other side of the settee. She smiled softly and then stood.

'It sounds like you have a lot to think about. I'll leave you to it. Don't worry about the kitchen I'm off tomorrow so I'll sort it out in the morning. Good night Sherlock.'

He stood as she did and walked over to where she now stood, by the door. 'Good night Molly and....thank you.'

He made to do as he had done many times before; to kiss her cheek. He put his hand on her neck and as he leant in he saw her eyes flutter shut and felt her pulse increase under his palm. It felt as though it were in sync with his own. His lips touched her cheek and he paused. He felt something deep within himself shift in that moment and instead of pulling away he kissed her a second time slightly lower and then again a third time at the edge of her mouth.

He felt as though in that split second he would have been able to hear a pin drop, then she let out an almost imperceptible sigh and his lips finally found hers. She tasted of the wine that she had just been drinking and he let his tongue explore her mouth as he turned her slightly and pushed her against the wall. 

He could feel her hands on his ribs; they seemed small...she seemed small and he felt a protectiveness wash over him along with other emotions that he couldn't quite make out and distinguish. He wanted her; in that moment he wanted her and as they kissed he moved one hand down the side of her body until he found her hip and he had to resist the urge to pick her up and rut against her.

His mind seemed to be both racing and yet still at the same time. Thoughts rolling around in his mind as he concentrated on every sigh and gasp and moan that they both made; and then all of a sudden he saw it. It made perfect sense...perfect. 

He pulled away his mind already three steps ahead of his body. 'That's it! She must have known, and if she knew he knew. Where's my phone?' 

He seemed to suddenly remember that Molly was there with him although he felt slightly puzzled as to why she were looking so dazed and confused.

 

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH 

As he grabbed his jacket and coat she pulled herself together and retrieved his phone for him from the kitchen table.

'I need to get Gavin to pull the minister's financial records, I have no doubt he's in serious financial difficulties and was banking on the pay out to help him cover them.'

He was texting as he spoke then he wrapped his scarf around his neck and left the room. As he went down the stairs he shouted back up. 'I'll be back late, don't wait up.'

Then he was gone.

Molly sat back down on the settee before her legs gave out on her. She felt dizzy and slightly bewildered. What the hell had just happened? One minute she was saying good night to Sherlock and he was giving her a kiss on the cheek and the next they were making out against the wall like teenagers. She could still smell his cologne and feel his lips on hers. 

Living with him was like being on a roller coaster and her emotions were scattered all over the place. She didn't know if she was coming or going; whether he liked her or he didn't. But dammit, he wasn't just a good kisser, he was....words couldn't describe sufficiently how he made her feel. She felt as though her body came alive under his touch and she wanted more. If he didn't....well, she couldn't stay, it would be too painful. 

In the end she gathered the dirty plates and glasses and washed up. The mundane domesticity calming her fractured nerves. Then she made herself a comforting cup of cocoa and took it up to her room where she could think in peace.

It seemed to take her ages to fall asleep and when she did her dreams were haunted by Sherlock, his lips on hers, his hands caressing her skin. She awoke at one point almost calling his name. She felt so tired and yet so aroused. If she'd been any more awake she would have been almost tempted to touch herself but sleep took her again.

The third time was different. She woke with a knot of fear low in her belly as she realised she wasn't alone. There was someone else in her room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Are we afraid? I'm not sure we are are we...hmm who could it possibly be in her bedroom?


	12. Chapter 12

She lay rigid in the bed as her sleep addled mind tried to think through her options. She could hear the intruder moving around, the rustling of his clothes and a creak as he trod on the wonky floorboard near her wardrobe. He let out a low, murmured, 'shit' and every nerve ending in Molly's body seemed to sigh with relief. 

It was only Sherlock. Just as she started to wonder what he was doing in her room he lifted the covers on her bed letting a cold wash of air flow over her. The bed dipped and then he was there next to her.

'What the hell are you doing?' She whispered, not quite sure why she felt the need to keep her voice low but not wanting to raise it. As she spoke her hand found his chest and her mind seemed to stutter as she realised it was bare flesh she was touching. 

'I came to finish what we started earlier. I did say I'd be back.'

Just as her hand started to drift lower he moved over her, his knee already between her thighs and his lips found hers once more. 

She knew she ought to be questioning this more, knew she should be pushing him out of her bed but her wandering hand had found his hip and so long as he hadn't kept his socks on (she really, really hoped he hadn't kept his socks on) it would appear that he was completely nude, in her bed, and looking to carry on doing whatever it was they had been doing earlier. This was no drunken fumble.

Molly let out a sigh as her hand slid over his backside; she had always loved his backside. Always so tightly encased in expensive trousers and looking almost biteable. She squeezed it and felt his muscle flex in response and his hips rock into hers. 

That was when she felt his erection hard and heavy against her leg and just the sheer thought of it had her groaning into his mouth and her hands pulling him against her. Her brain seemed sluggish and even after her initial fright was still heavy with sleep and she wondered if she was still dreaming; if so it was a good dream.

As their kisses grew more passionate he shifted until he was fully over her and Molly just didn't see the need for any foreplay. Her dreams had been so erotic and so real that she was already slick with need and ready for him.

She reached down between them and took him in hand. At her touch he moaned and moved his lips to her neck lifting himself just enough that she was able to slide her hand up and down the length of him feeling how hard he was for her. He felt big in her grasp and she found herself aching to feel him inside her.

She held him against her entrance and then used her other hand to guide his hips forward. He pushed into her slowly and it was all she could do not to cry out at the perfect sensation of being filled by him. He stilled inside her as he reached both her limits and his and she felt him pulsing and twitching. It seemed she wasn't the only one affected and extra-horny. 

His lips were pressed against the skin on her neck and she heard his low whisper telling her how good she felt. His voice sent shivers through her body, reminding her once more that this wasn't some random stranger or one night stand; this was Sherlock Holmes. His voice affected her at the best of times but here in her bed with him filling her so completely she found herself on the verge of an orgasm before they'd even begun.

As he withdrew and thrust back in she cried out his name, touching and pulling on whatever part of him she could to keep him moving. She was on the verge of her climax and it was consuming her, it was all she could think of. He seemed to sense how close she was because he lifted her knee higher on one side and increased his pace all the time telling her how wet she was and how good she felt.

At the last moment he kissed her once more, his tongue delving into her mouth as his cock plunged into her centre and she broke. It seemed to last much longer than normal and as she called his name she felt his movements falter as his own orgasm overtook him causing him to thrust into her deeper and harder before finally his body sagged against her own and they lay catching their breath and feeling the aftershocks of their coupling still rippling through both of them. 

'God, I needed that.' He kissed her forehead and pulled her against his chest as he rolled to one side. Her arm was around his waist and her head at his shoulder; their legs still tangled together.

She wanted to ask him what it meant and how she should feel but a wave of tiredness overtook her and she fell asleep before she had a chance to say anything of much relevance.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH 

The next morning she awoke to an empty bed. It took her a moment to remember the night before and another moment after that to work out that it had been real and not a dream. But it appeared that once again Sherlock had used her for some kind of post-case fuck and he had once again done a bunk. 

She sat up and put her head in her hands for a moment before pushing her hair back off her face and getting up.

She made her way to the loo and brushed her teeth and as she did she looked in the mirror and felt her anger starting to give way to despair. How could he do this to her again? That was it, there was no way she could stay here...not even a day longer. Maybe John and Mary would let her crash in their spare room, or she could call Meena and sleep on her settee. Anything but stay here.

It was a shock therefore to open the bathroom door to find Sherlock lying in her bed with his phone in his hand.

 

He glanced up at her as she came out of the bathroom and waved a hand towards the to mugs on the bedside table. 'Thought you might appreciate a coffee. I just need to send a reply to John and then I'm all yours.'

'All mine...' Her brain felt as though it was on a go slow. A minute ago she'd been moving out and not before she'd given him a piece of her mind and a good hard slap and now....now she had no idea how she felt. 

He discarded his phone and slid back down under the covers before patting the bed at the side of him. 'Come on, why are you just standing there looking as though you've seen a ghost? I can assure you I'm quite real, you can even pinch me if you want...though not too hard if you don't mind.'

She climbed onto the bed next to him kneeling up by his side. 'I just...I thought you'd gone...you know, like last time.'

He sucked his lips into his mouth and looked away from her. 'That was a bit not good wasn't it? I apologise. In my defense it was all a bit sudden and I had had no time to process the change in my feelings.'

'And have you had a chance now...to process I mean?'

He glanced at her and smiled slowly. 'Yes, I think I have. I'm never going to be good relationship material, Molly. In fact I have no idea why you ever fell for me or how you still care even after knowing me as well as you do but it seems your patience has paid off. I do, in fact have feelings for you. I thought they would be a distraction to my work but it seems John was right....please don't ever tell him I said that...and in fact, ignoring my feelings for you was the actual distraction.'

'So, you want to do this more often, for us to be together.' She found herself started to feel hope and happiness blossom inside her for the first time in years.

'Well, I'm naked in your bed, doesn't that tell you something?'

'Mmm you are aren't you?' She tugged the covers down exposing more of his body, a few inches at a time. As she uncovered his manhood he smirked as it bobbed up, already hard.

She couldn't resist taking hold of him and tightening her grip as she slowly stroked him hearing a low rumble in his chest. She bit her lip before leaning over him and taking him into her mouth, tasting him for the first time. As she came back up she swirled her tongue around his glans and his hands tangled in her hair as he let out a breathy, 'oh God.'

She moved one of her legs over his so she was a bit more stable before taking him a little deeper, her hand tightening at his base adding extra pressure. Each time she went down on him she relaxed her throat a little more until she was able to take three quarters of his length in her mouth. She loved how vocal he was; his groans filling the room making her wet and ready for him before he'd even touched her.

The next time she went down she moved her hands to his balls and as she rolled them in her hand he gasped and pulled on her shoulders. 'God, no...stop, Molly. I can't....'

Now it was her turn to smirk at him as she crawled up his body until she was straddling his hips and leaning over him. Without preamble she positioned him and slid herself onto him loving how full he made her feel. 

'Wait, you need to wait. Just give me a moment.' She stilled as he pulled her down for a kiss. The problem was that the very act of trying to keep still just made Molly more and more aroused. That and the fact that it was daylight and they weren't drunk and she knew absolutely that this was Sherlock she was having sex with and the realisation was almost over-whelming her.

She couldn't help but start to rock against him slowly but surely; feeling her climax starting to build more and more. When he pulled her down to him and took her breast into his warm mouth, she could feel his groans echoing through her body and it sent her over the edge into one of the best orgasms she had ever experienced. Even as he joined her a minute later she was still experiencing bursts of physical pleasure which had her calling his name over and over.

She collapsed onto his chest and could feel his hand moving in circles on her back. She kissed his chest before slowly moving up to kiss him on the mouth once more. She would never get enough of kissing him...ever.

His hands were tangled in her hair extending the kiss until Molly could feel herself reacting to him all over again. She pulled away breathing hard and moved to the side of him before she ended up shagging him all over again.

He turned on his side and smiled at her. 'You know what this means don't you?'

She frowned. 'No, what?'

'You're going to have to make me that Steak and Kidney Pie for real this time!'

She punched him lightly on the chest before chuckling along with him.


	13. Chapter 13

It was four days later and after Sherlock and Molly had had sex in just about every room in their flat that John finally called round to see what had happened to his friend. 

He found him lying on the settee in the front room still clad in his pyjamas even though it was almost mid-day.

'So, what the hell happened to you Sherlock? I've been texting for days with no response; I was beginning to think you were dead or something. Would it have killed you to send just one reply...one?'

Sherlock opened his eyes but made no move to sit up or offer John a drink or anything. 'Pfft, boring. I had better things to do with my time.'

'So, I take it you've been on a case. What was it? You know I would have been happy to accompany you.'

'Nope, no case. I've been relaxing.'

John narrowed his eyes and sat down on the coffee table. 'You...relaxing...are you high or something?'

Finally Sherlock sat up huffing and rolling his eyes. 'No John, I haven't been taking drugs again. I....well, actually I took your advice.'

Now John was really confused. 'What advice was that exactly?'

Sherlock rolled his eyes in frustration at John's inability to keep up. 'Regarding Molly of course.'

'Oh,' John thought for a moment, '....OH! So you've....I mean you're...what are you exactly?'

'We're together...a couple I suppose.'

'And you're happy?'

For the first time a smile spread across Sherlock's face causing his friend to smile with him. 'Yes, John, yes I'm very happy. As you can probably gather she took some time off work and we basically stayed in having sex and ordering food in. She had to go back to work today though and it's probably time we got back to work.'

John's eyebrows were about as high up his forehead as he could get them. He really hadn't expected to hear that Sherlock had spent the last few days shagging his pathologist but if that's what they had done he was happy for them.

'Right, good, OK then. Well, I suppose I should check the emails whilst you get showered and dressed.'

He watched as his friend went off whistling, yes, whistling to himself. He shook his head, Mary was not going to believe this turnaround. He wondered how long the good mood would last but figured he'd make the most of it whilst he could.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH 

A couple of hours later Molly was at work and getting a grilling from Greg. 

'So where were you and Sherlock yesterday? We had a body brought in and there was no response or sign of either of you. Mike said you'd taken the day off at short notice. Did Sherlock have another case or something?'

'No, no we just...erm...decided to have a few days at home that's all.'

Greg frowned suddenly feeling suspicious. 'Sherlock ignoring a case to stay home...that doesn't sound like him.'

Molly had a sudden flashback to Sherlock's phone ringing as he was in the middle of expertly bringing her to a climax with his mouth. Her hands had been so tight in his hair she'd worried that she'd be in danger of pulling strands of it out but he hadn't complained.

As he'd knelt back up and wiped her juices from his mouth with the back of his hand she had breathlessly asked him if he needed to take the call.

He'd shook his head. 'They can do without me for once, I have a more pressing occupation for my brain at the moment and for once it doesn't include cases and murders though it does involve a body....your body.' 

He'd crawled up until he was face to face with her and then he'd kissed her. She could feel his erection pressing into her as his tongue explored her mouth.

A few hours later his phone had then pinged repeatedly with messages as Sherlock had bent her over the kitchen table and fucked her from behind, his fingers digging into her hips as they had both given in to their endless need for each other. It seemed that once Sherlock's libido had been reawakened he had been insatiable. Molly wondered if she'd be able to walk again after this round.

Greg clicked his fingers in front of her bringing her back into the present. 'Hey Molly, you still with me. You zoned out for a minute, you're not building one of those damn mind palaces like Sherlock are you?'

She laughed. 'No, sorry. What were you saying about a case?'

'Just that Sherlock ignored my call. Didn't matter in the end, we managed to catch the killer without him. Turned out to be a domestic, nothing that would have got him interested.'

'Oh right. So what brings you in here today, new case?'

No, no reason. Well....actually there's a leaving do at work on Friday, Gregson. I think you've handled bodies for him a couple of times. Anyway, I was wondering if you'd like to go....with me that is?'

Molly suddenly felt awkward. Why in all these years would Greg suddenly choose now to ask her out? She was just wondering how to let him down gently when they were interrupted.

'Yes, well I don't think Molly will be able to accept your frankly uninteresting offer of a date Lestrade. I think you'll find that she is no longer single. Isn't that right Miss Hooper?'

Molly smiled at him. 'Yes, I'm afraid that's right.'

Lestrade looked from one to the other and narrowed his eyes. 'Why do I feel like I'm missing the punchline here? And I'm sorry Molly I didn't realise you were dating someone. Anyone I know?'

Again it was Sherlock who answered, smirking as he did. 'Yes it is. It's someone very close to you, someone who you turn to for help and advice, someone who's good looking, brilliant and and...'

Greg was frowning in confusion. 'Well, I wouldn't class Anderson as either brilliant or good looking and John's already taken. Who else do we have in common? It's not your brother is it?'

Sherlock rolled his eyes and Molly burst out laughing. 'Stop being mean Sherlock. We're together Greg.....Sherlock and I.'

Greg looked back and forth between them. 'You're bloody kidding me. You are with Sherlock. You and Sherlock?'

Molly started to feel a little insulted. 'Yes, me and Sherlock, why is that so hard to believe?'

'Well, because he's a tosser for one thing. And I always thought he was asexual or gay or something.'

Sherlock walked over to Molly and kissed her briefly on the lips enjoying the slight blush that it brought to her cheeks. 'Nothing wrong with either of those things but I am none of them. Now I think we've discussed my love life long enough surely there be must be a case of some kind that we can get involved in. With Molly at work I find myself somewhat at a loose end.'

'Well is suppose you could help with a recent spate of robberies in Hatton Gardens.'

'Perfect, John will be here in a minute then we can run over the details. Any chance of coffees Molly?'

Now it was her turn to roll her eyes, it didn't look as though being in a relationship got her out of doing the coffees.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH 

As she arrived back at Baker St later that same day she popped in to see Mrs Hudson. It had been a while since they'd caught up over a cuppa and what with John and Greg both knowing about her relationship with Sherlock she thought it was only fair that she keep their landlady in the loop.

Martha opened the door and ushered Molly into her kitchen bustling about and putting the kettle on. 'You're in luck I've been baking today. They're Sherlock's favourite so you can take him a plate up when you leave. I figured he'd need to keep his strength up at the moment.'

Molly frowned. 'Umm...why would he need to keep his strength up?'

'Well, both of you really. It's always the same when you first get together isn't it...all that sex. You're so wrapped up in each other; makes you forget to eat. Anyway, it's nice seeing you both so happy. I was beginning to think he'd never settle down, especially after John moved on.'

Molly nearly choked on her tea. 'So, how did you know we were together?' Please let it not be the reason I think she's going to give....please.

'Well, I might be getting on a bit dear but my hearing isn't that bad you know.'

It is the reason I hoped it wouldn't be!! Molly was mortified. 'Oh God I am so sorry. We never meant to disturb you. You should have said something.'

Mrs Hudson laughed and patted her hand. 'Don't you worry, I have headphones and a whole stash of talking books to get through. I'm just glad that you've found each other. You'll be good for him, and I'm ever hopeful that there will be the patter of tiny feet in Baker St before too long. A house like this needs some children in it.'

Just then the front door banged too, alerting Molly to the fact that Sherlock was back. Mrs Hudson smiled at her. 'Go on, you go see your man. I was wanting to listen to the next chapter of my audio book anyway. Just make sure he eats a couple of the biscuits and give him my love.'

Molly said her goodbyes and went to join Sherlock upstairs. He had been leaning on the mantelpiece but he turned around as she came into the room. 'Ah, there you are. I take it you've brought me my home made biscuits.'

Molly held out the plate and he came over and took two off it. 'Mmm, I could smell them as soon as came in. I'll eat these and then eat you, how does that sound?'

'Sherlock!' Molly tried to sound shocked but her face was covered in a wide grin.

'So, it appears that most of our friends now know about our relationship. Just the families left to tell. I certainly don't need to inform Mycroft, I have no doubt he already knows but I suppose I ought to let my parents know at some point.'

As Molly put down the plate and hung up her coat Sherlock came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, kissing her neck and making Molly giggle. She made him feel happy and he couldn't remember a time previously when he had felt so genuinely happy. 

She turned in his arms and they kissed. It was slow and sensual and had hormones sweeping through their bodies. As they finally broke apart Sherlock moved to kiss down her neck his hands already moving to the buttons on her blouse.

'Maybe we could go visit?'

He didn't lift his head instead answering as his mouth was still against her skin sending vibrations down the length of her body. 'Hmm? Visit who?'

'Your parents. I'd...umm..well it would be nice to meet them.' Her hands were tangling in his hair right up until the point that he stood back up with a frown on his face.

'Nice...it wouldn't be nice at all. It would be hideous.'

'Oh.' Her face fell and he knew immediately he had said the wrong thing.

'No, not you Molly. I don't have any issue with you meeting them. It's just my mother....she'll be intolerable. I've never....'

Molly smiled again and put her arms around his waist. 'Go on...you've never what?'

He seemed to be looking almost sheepish which was a new look for him and Molly was very curious.

'I've never taken a girl home.' He finished sulkily.

'So I'd be the first?'

'Yes. I have no idea how they'd handle it. My mother will probably end up sizing you up for a wedding dress and my dad will be building a cot in the garage...not that those things are a problem just....damn it.'

She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him. 'Just a bit too normal for you.'

He loved how she could almost read his mind. 'Don't worry, there's no rush. I'm more than happy with how things are at the moment.'

He returned her smile and bent to kiss her once more, his hands resuming their former mission to de-clothe her. 'Well I'm not.'

He slid down to his knees and undid her trousers pushing them and her pants down her slim legs until he could remove them completely. He kissed her hip, sucking in the skin and enjoying her quick intake of breath and her hands tangling in her hair.

'Why...why not?' Her voice was slightly higher than normal and shaking as she realised what he was about to do.

He moved her legs apart as she leant back on the wall for support and he inhaled her scent before swirling his tongue over her clit. He loved the way she shuddered in response.

'I don't want to be flat mates anymore...' He moved his tongue once more as he drove two fingers inside her.

'I...God, Sherlock...I don't understand....oh'

'I want you in MY bed....every night....'

His pace was relentless and in less than three minutes he was rewarded with the feel of her coming, her muscles contracting around his fingers and her hands pulling on his hair and scraping his scalp.

She sank down to his level biting her lip and trying to catch her breath. Eventually she opened her eyes and when she smiled it was totally wicked, her hands already reaching for his trousers and cupping his aching erection.

'I don't mind moving to your bedroom, but what would we do with the room upstairs, get another flat mate?'

She finally managed to release his cock and she licked her lips before taking him into her mouth. He could only lie back leaning on his elbows as she moved her warm, wet mouth up and down the length of him. He could feel his own orgasm building, made all the worse by the fact that he couldn't take his eyes off the sight of his cock sliding in and out of her beautiful mouth.

At the last minute she released him making him groan out loud and pray for some sort of release. He was rewarded with her moving astride him and sinking herself down onto him. His hands gripped her hips and he drove up into her feeling how tight and wet she was for him.

They knew each other bodies now. A week of sex had made him an expert at playing her and he put his mind palace to good use as he ensured she came for a second time just before he pumped his seed into her.

They finally fell into each other's arms laughing and giggling and kissing. Molly moved off him eventually. 'God that was good, but maybe we should have made it to the bedroom. Is your back OK?'

Sherlock confirmed he was indeed OK even though the floor had not been the most comfortable of places.

Just as she started to stand he halted her pulling her back for another kiss. 'Oh and about that room upstairs....maybe my dad should be making that cot after all.'

She smiled, moving in with Sherlock had easily been the best decision she'd ever made and she could only hope that their future would be just as promising.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there we have it. All finished,cheer me up and let me know your final thoughts on this story and thank you all so, so much for all of your support and enthusiasm. This fandom is the best!


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